Red Childhood
by Koezh
Summary: AUish, Jane's POV, he starts middle school meeting the CBI gang and Red John as kids but soon finds his life spiraling out of control...
1. Chapter 1: First Day of School

**Disclaimer: **Mentalist is not mine, no money from this

**Author's Note: **The school in this is made up as is the town as it's easier than picking a town to suit my story. And thank you to my brother for letting me use his computer to write this, not that he needs it at 2am.

I stood outside the entrance of my new school. I was late as I'd gotten lost on the way there, from experience I knew it was not good to be late on his first day. I sighed and trudged through the large doors, _and my first time in middle school too!_

A plump elderly woman approached me and peered down at me disapprovingly from her spectacles.

"Yes?"

"Err... Hello," I answered nervously, I groaned inwardly. I could perform fine for my Dad but say `err` to a teacher! _I'm pathetic. _

"Hello to you too young man," snapped the woman, "your name and why you decided to be late would be much more productive," I swallowed nervously, _why did people have to sound so mean?_

"I'm Patrick Jane, it's my first day and I got lost on my way here. It won't happen again," I ran my fingers through my scruffy hair. At least I won't be here long, we never stay anywhere long. Just long enough for my Dad to relax before we run out of money and have to go con some more people.

"Well Patrick, I'm Mrs Edwards the vice principal. We have been expecting you, I will take you to your first class. Follow me," she spoke with a scottish accent, probably new to the country and I bet the move was to be with her husband. He'd probaby got a promotion to America or something. I hate noticing stuff like that, it's usually important in my Dad's cons but in school it just makes me an outcast. Not that I have time to make friends with the rate we move around.

"I'll see to it you're given a timetable, now your first class is geography with Mr Simmons. Have fun," she finished by shoving me through a door and I suddenly found twenty odd pairs of eyes staring at me. _Great(!) just what I wanted. _

"Who are you and why are you late for my class?" the middle-aged man at the front of the classroom snapped.

"I'm err... Patrick," I managed to mumble, wishing the floor would swallow me up.

"Patrick who?" I groaned inwardly at his words, it sucked having a girl's name as your surname. Everyone was going to laugh at me.

"Patrick Jane," the whole room erupted into gales of laughter. I felt me cheeks burning with embarrassment so I opted to look at the teacher, he kept fidling with his wedding ring. _Marital problems._

"Ah-ha, the new kid. Why are you late?"

"I got lost," more laughter exploded from the class, _I hated school._

"Quiet down class. Take a seat beside Wayne there," he pointed to an empty desk beside a tall dark haired boy, I sat down beside him as the laughter died down.

"Now, if your quite done interrupting my class Mr Jane-" his next words were drowned out by more laughter, I sunk lower in my seat. Everyone eventually quieted down and he resumed his lesson.

I quickly surveyed the room as had become my habit, Wayne kept staring at a pretty red headed girl and she tried not to look at him, clearly they liked each other but Wayne was too nervous to ask her out. Girls were becoming a very interesting topic to me. Another boy who caught my attention was a smallish kid with black hair, he hung his head and was paying no attention to Mr Simmons. Probably traumatised or abused, my Dad always says to stay clear of those sorts of thing, _"Don't wanna get mixed up with cops Pat, not good."_

"You should ask her out," I whispered finally to Wayne, I had grown bored of his staring.

"Grace? Nah," he replied uncomfortably, I grinned inwardly. He was terrified of asking her out, if I ever like a girl I'll just ask her out. It's got to be easier than staring at them all day.

"She'd say yes, she likes you too," Wayne looked puzzled at this.

"How do you know?"

"I'm psychic," I hadn't meant to say it but it was easier than explaining the details. I must have spoken to loudly though because Mr Simmons turned angrily round from whatever he'd been writing.

"Yes Patrick? What is so important you misu interrupt my lesson again?" he roared and fidled with his wedding ring again, he was really worried about her and because he looked guilty he'd probably had an affair.

"Don't worry, if you love your wife I'm sure she'll get over your affair," open mouth, insert foot. Wrong thing to say. _Why was I so impulsive?_

"What!?" he screamed livid with rage, "my wife and my affair are none of your buissiness at all. Do you understand?" he stopped his rant and walked up to me. "How did you know about that?"

"He's psychic," Wayne put in helpfully.

"Well psychic," Mr Simmons sneered, "I'm thinking of a word beginning with `p` and ending in `l.` What is it?"

"Principal?"

"Well done!" he screamed again pointing to the door. I got up and followed him hanging my head at the class' accusing eyes, he led me up some more corridors to a door marked `principal` and sat me on a chair outside the door.

"Wait here," he hissed as he went inside. I sat there miserably, _my first day and I was already in trouble. What a great way to start 6th grade._

"Hello," I looked up to see a girl about my age sitting beside me, she had dark hair and green eyes, _she was beautiful._

"Hello," the stuck out her hand grinning.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Teresa. Teresa Lisbon," I shook her hand and studied her, she was dressed in jeans and a football jersey, a tomboy.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Patrick. Patrick Jane," to my disappointment she snorted with laughter.

"Cheer up Patrick, if you keep looking miserable people will confuse you with John,"

"John?"

"Red John, he always looks miserable. His Daddy killed his Mommy and then killed himself so he has to live in a home,"

"Oh," that was probably the dark haired kid that looked sad.

"So what did you do? I threw gum at this eighth grader because he took my little brother's yodel in the park yesterday,"

"I erm... managed to annoy the teacher,"

"Brilliant!"

The door opened and out came Mr Simmons and a woman I didn't recognize, from her smart attire and commanding prescense I assumed the principal.

"Ah, Lisbon. What did you do now?" she sighed. Mr Simmons shot me a dark look and skulked off.

"Threw gum at this eighth grader because he stole my brother's yodel in the park yesterday," said Teresa, she was clearly proud of this.

"It wouldn't be Sam Bosco would it?" I got the feeling this wasn't the first time something like this had happened.

"Yep,"

"Well don't do it again, now be off with you," she shooed Teresa away who skipped away humming and ushered me into her office. She closed the door and sat behind her desk, I saw the name `Principal Powers.`I sat down in one of the chairs opposite her.

"Patrick, I know it's your first day and it can be tough moving to a new school, especially since your family seems quite nomandic but, I would appreciate if you tried not to upset any teachers. I don't know how you knew that and I don't wanna know, but please just try be good and we'll get along fine,"

"Okay," I mumbled.

"Good, now back to class please and I have your class schedule here," she handed me the paper and I quickly hurried back to class. The rest of the lesson passed pretty much as I expected, being ignored by the students and glared at by Mr Simmons. I was relieved when it was recess.

I went outside and felt isolated as always watching them play or simply huddle in groups talking. It didn't help they were all older than me, I was only 11, any younger and I'd be in fifth grade. Dad always said the faster you finish school, the better. I noticed Teresa playing softball with a bunch of other kids, I sucked at sports and everyone else seemed busy. I decided I'd just stand by the wall.

"Hey, Jane," sneered a voice. I looked up to see a gang of older kids surrounding me, one was chinese and he looked out of place, he was younger than them and only hanging with the gang to be cool.

"Hi guys,"

"I'm Mick and these are my boys," he nodded to the surrounding kids, "I heard you're new and I wanted to be the first to say give me your lunch money," he held out his hand expectantly.

"Give me your lunch money or we'll beat the crap out of you," Mick said more forcefully as he punched the air.

"No thanks," I muttered feeling my heart sink. First day and I was already in trouble with the principal and now I was about to be robbed and beat up. Mick grinned and aimed his fist at me, in a panic I ducked and Mick's fist collided with solid brick. Mick screamed in agony and pulled back his hand.

"What's going on here?" it was Mrs Edwards.

"Patrick Jane hurt my hand!" Mick roared shaking his wrist. She looked puzzled at this until Mick's gang nodded.

"Well come with me Patrick, you've earned yourself a detention! When school ends room 309, block A. Got it?"

"Got it," I muttered.

"Now come with me to see the nurse," she added kindly to Mick as the gang left. _This day was not going well!_

The rest of the day passed uneventfully but as I reached room 309 I was partially surprised to find Teresa there.

"Well, well if it isn't Patrick Jane," she grinned as I sat down beside her.

"Hello again,"

"Shut up and get on with your lines," snapped the young teacher watching them.

"So what you in for?" I asked quietly as I began writing the lines allocated for me on the blackboard, `I will not get into fights.`

"Sam again, I whacked him in the head with a baseball bat. It was actually an accident... that time," I couldn't help but laugh, this earned another telling off by the teacher so we resumed the lines in silence.

"Done," I called happily when I'd finished.

"Well than you can go," said the teacher waving me at the door, "and don't be back,"

"Show off!" yelled Teresa who was barely half done. I strolled home filled with relief, at least my day could'nt get any worse...

**Author's Note: **Well what do you think? Again I'm eager for your feedback as I don't know if you'll like this or not. So please review! :)


	2. Chapter 2: Angela Lisbon

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thanks to my Dad for letting me use his laptop. I really don't know why I bother writing this. Anyway in this chapter we meet Lisbon's mother for the first and last time... Also please, please review I am begging you, I am dying for feedback here

I found my way home and opened the door to find the house littered with boxes, it was not surprising as we'd just moved in and Dad could be pretty lazy sometimes. Upstairs I could hear moaning, Dad had obviously found another new girlfriend. I sighed and went upstairs passing my father's open door as quickly as possible.

"Who was that?" came a woman's voice.

"Probably my son," I heard my Dad say, I rushed into my room and hurridly closed the door. My room was an okay size, it had enough room for a single bed and a desk and their was some drawers in the corner. I sat at the desk and got out my homework, which first geography, math or history?

"Hi," I looked at the door and saw a woman, probably my Dad's new girlfriend. She was older than his usual girlfriends. She looked to be in her thirties, she had dark hair and familiar green eyes. I noticed a wedding ring on her finger.

"Hi," I muttered back, "do you know Teresa Lisbon?"

"Why yes she's my daughter," she suddenly bit her lip and sat beside me on the bed, "do you know her Patrick?"

"I met her today in school, she seemed nice," I had a horrible feeling of dread building up in me, "she doesn't know your having an affair with my Dad, does she?"

"What makes you think I'm having an affair with your Dad?" she asked shifting uncomfortably.

"Maybe because you were having sex with him in the other room," her face burned bright red with embarrassment.

"I-I-I don't usually, I mean never before... I'm not usually like this," she finished lamely, I felt bad for her. Adults were strange.

"I won't tell Teresa, if you don't want me to,"

"Thanks Patrick. My husband can just be difficult sometimes, and I needed a break... and here I am trying to explain myself to a kid," she sighed mournfully.

"Would you like something to eat?" I asked hoping to make her feel better, "I can get you some sandwiches or mac and cheese or something,"

"That's kind of you to offer Patrick, did your Mom teach you to cook?" now it was my turn to look uncomfortable. My Mom had died when I was only a year and half old, I could barely remember anything about her at all.

"She's dead, she died when I was very little," I looked away as I spoke. I missed my Mom, I always wondered what she was like. When I was younger I used to make believe she was alive and talk to her, until my Dad told me I was being stupid.

"I'm sorry, really sorry. I should of realized," she apolagized and we both fell silent.

"So how about those sandwiches?" she nodded in agreement and half smiled as I led her downstairs, I saw Dad watching TV.

"Want some sandwiches Alex?" Angela asked him sweetly.

"No," he grunted and resumed watching TV. I made me and Angela some sandwiches and she told me proudly about Teresa and her brothers, three of them and Teresa was the eldest. I wished I had a brother, or sister, maybe then I'd be less lonely.

"I should probably be getting home," Angela said finally after we did the washing up, "my kids will be hungry," she looked over at my Dad who was snoozing loudly in front of the TV.

"I'll say goodbye for you,"

"Thanks Patrick," Angela and I went outside, it was getting dark. She seemed to make up her mind about something as she turned back to me, "wanna come with me to get my car? It's still at the grocery store, I could get you some chocolate or candy or something since you made me those sandwiches,"

I grinned in agreement, she was only doing this to feel less guilty but I hardly ever got chocolate or candy, plus I liked the attention. We winded our way through the streets and I got a much better feel for the town, it was quite big but my Dad liked big, easier to disappear if necessary. That's what he said anyway.

We reached the grocery store and Angela's green SUV, she got us some ice cream lolly's and we sat outside on the wall eating them when Angela suddenly cursed.

"What?"

"I have a little cross that I wear around my neck, I took it off when err... I was..."

"Engaged in physical activity with my father?" Angela burst out laughing and I grinned.

"I've never heard it put like that before but yes, that's when I took it off and I forgot to put it back on, it's my favourite,"

"We can just go get it, it's not a big deal," I lied easily, I had put it in my pocket when I found it and it was still there but I wanted to spent more time with her. I would `find` it when she came back to my house and she hopefully stay for dinner. I felt guilty after I said it though, I shouldn't keep her from her family just because I was lonely.

"Okay, I'll just reverse the car. You get rid of the lolly sticks," she grinned at me and jumped into the car, _I'll give it to her in the car._ I got into the car and we began the drive to my house.

"I hope Danny doesn't notice the gas going down, my house is in the opposite direction," she smiled nervously as she spoke. I couldn't bring myself to give her it now, _I might as well just stick to my original plan._

We reached my house and began looking for it, my Dad still asleep. I then `found` it and she seemed pleased with me but didn't want to stay for dinner, with a sinking heart I waved goodbye and she drove off.

It hadn't been ten minutes when I heard sirens, near our house.

"We'd better check it out Pat," my Dad said seriouslyas they'd woken him up, he was always nervous around cops. We went outside and followed the sound to a road block, a green SUV was upturned and hanging out the side was Angela.

Her green eyes stared sightlessly at me, her mouth gaping open. She was covered in blood and she seemed contorted into an impossible position, one of her arms was lying afew feet away. I suddenly felt sick to stomach, she was dead.

"What happened here?" my Dad called out to a nearby cop, he walked over to them solemnly.

"A drunken kid crahsed straight into her, she didn't stand a chance. The kid walked away without a scratch but the mother of four died. It's a harsh world we live in,"

"Yeah," my Dad agreed.

"What we don't know is why she was even here, she lives on the other side of town," the cop continued.

"I don't know, never seen her before. Me and Pat just moved here, terrible thing to happen in this neighbourhood," my Dad lied, for some reason it made me feel angry and guilty.

I could see the little cross handing infront of her face, the cross I'd hidden, the cross I'd used to make her come home. And now she was dead and it was my fault, it was my fault Teresa and her brothers were motherless, it was my fault Mr Lisbon was now a widower. It was my fault Angela was dead. I was filled with self loathing as I followed my Dad home.

"You hungry Pat?" my Dad asked cheerfully as he flicked on the light (it was now fully dark). _How can he be so cheerful at a time like this? _Sometimes I wondered if my Dad felt anything at all.

"No,"

"Why not? Most people are eating dinner now," _like Angela should be._

"Angela's dead, don't you care?"

"That doesn't mean we should'nt eat,"

"You cold-hearted bastard!" I screamed at him, surprising myself, "you don't care about anyone but yourself, I hate you!"

I left my Dad looking shocked as I ran upstairs to my room, I slammed shut the door and threw myself onto my bed while I cried...


	3. Chapter 3: Second Day of School

**Disclaimer: **Mentalist is not mine, no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thank you to Habeous Corpus for reviewing, you rule. Be warned this chapter is slightly dark. Please enjoy... and review :) Also aren't I brilliant for three updates in one day? Dad wants his laptop back now so you'll have to wait till tommorrow at the earliest for an update. Sorry I'm rambling again, read on...

I eventually came down the stairs, I had been avoiding talking to him as long as possible but I had to leave for school in ten minutes and I was hungry. Dad was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal and a bottle of beer as usual.

"Patrick Jane finally decides to make an entrance," he said mockingly, I came up the table slowly his piercing eyes never leaving me, he was waiting for an apology. He leaned back and offered me some toast running a hand through his brown hair.

"Thank you," I muttered and grabbed a slice attempting to eat it slowyl so he wouldn't see I was hungry.

"Well? Don't you have something to say to me?"

"Goodmorning," he slammed his fist on the table and I leapt back, he was drunk.

"You are the most ungrateful little brat in the whole world Patrick, did you know that!?" he yelled standing up so he towered above me, "not only do I give you life, I give you food, shelter and teach how to make a bloody living. Some kids don't have half that! And you say you hate me? What the hell is wrong with you Patrick? I don't waste my life on you for nothing, the least I deserve is to be respected in the house I own!" he grabbed my arms roughly and I tried to pull away, he held me tighter digging his nails into my arm.

"I'm sorry Dad, I'm sorry let me go!" he let go and I fell onto the floor.

"Good," he growled, "now go to school." I ran until I was out of breath then stopped and looked at my bruised arms, there was a little blood but not much. I wiped away tears and pulled on the sweater I had tied around my waist. Then resumed my walk while trying not to cry.

My Dad could be cruel sometimes, he was probably right though, I was the one who'd got Angela killed. I tried harder not to cry, desperately hoping Teresa wouldn't be in school today. What could I say exactly? Hi, I'm sorry I got your mother killed. I shook my head and went into school, late again.

To my disappointment as I went into history I saw her sitting at a desk. The teacher pointed to the seat next to her and awarded me a detention for not doing my homework.

"Hi Teresa," I whispered as I sat down beside her, she ignored me. _Did she know what I'd done?_

"Leave me alone Patrick,"

"I know it hurts to lose your mother-" I began but she cut me off.

"You don't know anything," she snapped then calmed slightly, "how did you know she was dead?"

"I'm psychic," it was a lame thing to say but was better than the alternative.

"I don't believe you,"

"Her name was Angela, you have three younger brothers and she had a little cross necklace which was her favourite," I said remembering the stuff Angela had told me, I had a good memory. Her gaze seemed to soften and she looked amazed.

"I miss her so much already, I'll never smile again," she looked miserably away, she was probably tryng not to cry. Grinning inwardly I tore some of my book and folded it into a frog, she looked at me curiously as I placed it in front of her. She peered at it biting her lip, trying to figure out what it did. Then it jumped up at her, she leapt back in surprise then smiled and laughed.

"What are you doing?" snapped the teacher, it was the same one from detention yesterday, I didn't know his name. Teresa was still having a fit of laughter.

"Patrick you can go sit by Red John- I mean John if you can't behave," he pointed to the sad kid and I went over to sit beside him, he glared at me. We resumed working until the teacher approached us.

"John, you really need to smile more," he smiled at John who glared at him instead, he drew something on John's page with his red pen and walked on. I looked at it, it was a smiley face. The rest of the lesson passed uneventfully as did the rest until recess.

I was partially afraid to go outside incase I ran into Mick and his gang so I lingered by my newly appointed locker.

"Hi, I'm Wayne Rigsby, I'm in the same year as you," I was surprised by his voice until I realized he was around the corner with Grace Van Pelt, the red haired girl he liked. I froze, if I said hi it would ruin the moment for them but if I left they'd probably see me so opted to stand still.

"I know, I'm Grace," came a girl's voice shyly.

"I was wondering..." he began sounding nervous.

"Yes?"

"I was wonering if..." he tried again.

"Yes?"

"If you'd like to go out with me sometime," he finished quickly, "we could go see a movie, if you like,"

"Yes!" she squealed, "I would love to. I mean that'd be cool,"

"Great," I could almost see his wide grin, "let's go to recess then,"

"Okay," I heard them walking away and let out a relieved breath.

"So Jane, did you really think you could hide inside?" I spun to see Mick and his four chronies surrounding me. I felt like I was cursed.

"Yeah," agreed the asian kid trying to look tough.

"You shouldn't hang around with those guys you know, just because they think they're cool. It's better if you be yoursefl and nurture your love of reading, it's much more healthy," they gaped at me like I was insane.

"Shut up weirdo," said the fattest one but he was drowned out by the ringing bell. I smirked at them arrogantly. Bad idea.

"We'll get you at lunch!" snapped Mick and they stalked off, the asian kid still looking confused. My good mood abruptly faded, I was still dead at lunch. After lessons I rushed to get my lunch as fast as I could and took my time eating it, which was hard considering how hungry I was. I couldn't help but feel the familiar pangs of jealousy and misery as everyone sat in their friendship groups and I sat by myself. I managed to avoid Mick though which was good. I had another detention after school and then ran home.

Dad was passed out on the couch so I made myself dinner, did my homework and went to bed early. It was safer to avoid my Dad when he was in a bad mood like this, and my bruised arms agreed with me. I eventually fell asleep dreaming of Angela corpse, Teresa crying for mother and my Dad screaming at me...


	4. Chapter 4: Red John and the Lisbons

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mentalist, and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thank you to my readers and especially to jisbon-sessed, YukinaKid and Habeous Corpus for reviewing :) More Red John in this chapter, I made him pretty twisted. Please tell me what you think :)

I opened my eyes miserably not wanting to face the day but not wanting to go back to sleep either, if you could call waking up every other hour from nightmares sleep. I brushed my teeth and got dressed making sure to wear a sweater as the bruises were still visible. I had some cereal for breakfast, Dad wasn't up yet, he didn't usually wake up this early anyway and then headed for school. It was a pleasant day, the sun was shining and the birds singing, I hoped I wouldn't be too hot.

That's when I noticed John, he was standing on the path beside a dead cat. I approached him nervously and looked at the dead tabby, someone had bashed it's head in. I shivered, I'd had more than enough death to last me a lifetime.

"I killed it," John announced suddenly not looking up.

"It's not really healthy to kill things," I relied shifting uncomfortably.

"I've killed 8 birds, 5 mice, 4 rabbits, 3 cats and a dog," he knelt down beside it and dipped his finger in the blood, then he drew a smiley fave onto the pavement with the blood. It was very disturbing. John looked up at me smiling.

"Do you know why they call me Red John?" his grin faded as he spoke.

"No,"

"Because when my Father killed my Mother and then himself I ran out screaming for help and I was covered in their blood. Drenched in it, I was `red` and my name is `John.`"

I nodded nervously, I wasn't a fan of shrinks but in my opinion John needed some serious help.

"I like you Patrick, your not like most people. That's why I thought I'd share that with you. I like killing things, what do you like doing?"

"Getting to school on time," John laughed at this, he bent over double laughing and rolled on the floor.

"Go on, I've got to move this," he pointed the cat and I walked off, feeling unbelievable relieved to be away from him. John was sick. I passed the park and heard someone crying, I hesitated slightly. I was early for once and it couldn't hurt to check.

I went into the park and found a little boy crying behind a bush, he looked only about 5. He was curled into a ball crying.

"Hi," I said squeezing in beside him.

"Leave me alone," came a small voice.

"Can't you at least tell me your name? Mine's Patrick, Patrick Jane," the boy stopped crying and looked up at me with an acheingly familiar pair of emerald eyes.

"That's a girl's name," he pointed out wiping his eyes.

"I know. So what's your name?"

"I'm not telling," he folded his arms stubbornly.

"I bet your name ends with `Lisbon,`" the boys eyes widened in shock.

"How did you know that?" I smiled at him happily.

"I'm magic, sometimes I know stuff like that," the boy returned my smile.

"I'm Chris. Can you magic away bruises?" my heart instantly fell, _I really have a way with people, don't I?_

"Why?"

"My Daddy hit me and my sister last night. He never did that before, why?" he started to cry again, "Tessie said he didn't mean it... that he was just sad because of Mommy... but I hurt," he said through sobs and looked pleadingly at me. I put my arm around him and awkwardly patted his back, I was definately not use to this.

"It's okay, bruises heal quickly," I tried to sound comforting but glanced at my own arms which still stung painfully.

"There you are Chris!" I looked up to see Teresa standing there, "oh, hi Patrick," she squeezed on Chris's other side and attempted to comfort him too. Eventually he calmed down, "come on let's get you to school,"

We each held one of his hands and led him into the elementary school to his kindergarten class.

"Chris, how nice of you to join us," said the elderly woman kindly.

"Don't tell her about Dad," Teresa hissed in his ear.

"Why is he so late Teresa and..." she looked at me carefully, "whoever you are,"

"He was upset about his mother so he ran off and hid. Teresa got me to help look for him. He's okay now," I improvised, Teresa shot me a thankful look. She seemed to accept this and shooed us off to school.

"Thanks for covering for me," she said finally as we were walking to our own school.

"It was nothing. I'm just glad I could help,"

"I don't know why Dad did that. He was just drunk and he got mad... Please don't tell,"

"I won't," I agreed feeling painfully aware of bruised arms. Teresa nodded happily as we arrived in school.

My day was greatly improved to the previous two days. Teresa sat with me for most lessons, I enjoyed her company. She was the closest thing I'd had to a friend since... well forever. School was much more fun when you weren't alone, I even managed to avoid Mick. John didn't turn up for some reason, I felt relieved though, he really creeped me out.

School finished and I offered to walk Teresa home, she agreed but said she had to pick up her brother's too. We went back to the elementary school and were greeted by Chris. She also introduced me to her other brothers, James was the eldest below her, he was ten and had the typical Lisbon eyes and hair and Matt who was seven. Unlike the other Lisbon's I'd encountered however, Matt had brown eyes.

We all walked home happily, Chris and James enlightening us on every little thing that happened to them today. I didn't mind, it was new to me to be included in a family discussion. Usually it was just me and Dad and it was more Dad telling me to shut up and listen to him. I felt guilty though, like a traitor amoung them. They'd so easily accepted me and yet it was my fault they didn't have a mother anymore.

We arrived at the Lisbon house...


	5. Chapter 5: Friends

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own the mentalist guys and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Another chapter so quickly, aren't you lucky? :) Thanks to Ebony10 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing.

We entered the empty house and Matt and James rushed off to do homework, Chris ran off to play with toys and Teresa and I stood staring at the kitchen.

"Why are we staring at the kitchen?" I asked eventually.

"I have to feed us Patrick, but my cooking..."

"Sucks?"

"I was going to say could be better actually," she snapped irritably.

"I can cook okay, I can make something if you want," to my surprise she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly.

"That would be brilliant Patrick. Thank you, thank you,"

"Okay, okay," I laughed as I went over to the fridge, "I could make soup?"

"Sure, I'll help," Teresa smiled as I began telling her what to do, she didn't like being told what to do which I found amusing. We did actually manage however to make the soup and it didn't taste too bad if I do say so myself. The Lisbons and I ate most of it in no time, saving some for their Dad.

Teresa and I cleaned up and began on our homework.

"My Mom used to help me with my homework when I got stuck. For the science fair she helped me build this really awesome volcano and I won second place," Teresa smiled slightly at me as she spoke, "my Mom was the best,"

"I'm sure she was," I replied vaguely, not really sure what else to say.

"What's your Mom like?"

"I don't know, she'd dead," Teresa's eyes widened in shock at my bluntness, "she died before I really knew her,"

"That's horrible, I'm really sorry," she looked away guiltily twisting her pencil, "how did she die?"

"I don't know, Dad doesn't like to talk about it,"

"That sucks, not that it makes me feel better knowing she died in a car crash on a road she wasn't supposed to be on," I looked away guiltily but I couldn't bring myself to tell her, "I just have to be strong for my brothers," she started to cry and I hugged her gently while she cried on my shoulder. _Was it possible to die of guilt?_

"Don't you ever tell anyone I was crying though or I won't be your friend anymore," she said pulling away as she dried her eyes.

"You consider me a friend?" I asked scarcely daring to hope I might finally have a friend.

"Of course Patrick. You should consider yourself lucky, I don't have many friends. Grace is okay but Kim hasn't really been my friend since he started hanging out with Mick," I couldn't help but grin, I actually had a friend! A real friend, "you better be going now or your Dad will be wondering where you are,"

"Okay, I'll see you at school," I smiled at her as I collected my homework and waved goodbye, still feeling over the moon that I had a friend.

I began the journey home happily, I actually had a friend, a real friend. Panic hit me suddenly, I couldn't let my Dad know that I was friends with her. I was supposed to stay away from troubled kids. I'd just have to be careful I decided as I reached home.

"That was a late detention Patrick," he yelled from the couch.

"Yeah,"

"Wanna make us some dinner?" Dad usually left the cooking to me, that was why I could cook or he ordered us take away. He hated cooking and was quite lazy, on the other hand I was already full from the dinner I'd had at the Lisbons.

"I'm not really hungry," I muttered. Confused my Dad got off the couch and approached me.

"Are you still upset about Angelica?"

"Her name was Angela," he slapped me hard across the cheek, it stung painfully and I winced.

"It doesn't matter what her name was, chicks are a dime a dozen. Get over it Patrick, and go to bed then. I'll just order some chinese,"

I nodded and went upstairs to my room, I quickly finished my homework and climbed into bed. It was earlier than my usual bedtime but I hadn't been sleeping well. The night passed no better and I awoke the next day feeling unrefreshed. I clambered downstairs, Dad wasn't up. Typical. I decided to skip breakfast (hopefully I'd have enough room for two small dinners if I cooked for the Lisbons again) and go to school early.

"Hi Patrick!" called John as he joined me on the walk to school, _great (!)._

"Hi John," I replied.

"Look, I got you a present," he continued happily and got out a red friendship bracelet, "I made you a friendship bracelet because your the first friend I've had in ages. It's red because I'm `Red` John," he resumed chatting away as he tied it around my wrist.

"Thanks," I replied in shock, what else could I say? He sounded so happy and I hadn't the heart to tell him he creeped me out.

"Your welcome Patrick, that's why I skipped school yesterday to make it for you. This is going to be the best year ever," he still sounded happy but it was weird how he didn't smile. We finally reached the school and I came face to face with Mick...


	6. Chapter 6: Happy but Conflicted

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Sorry I haven't updated in awhile but as I've said, it's hard with my computer being broke and I've just had loads of homework now I'm back in school... :( I wrote this last night but my Dad wanted his laptop back so I'm uploading it now before school. Thank you again to my readers and especially to YukinaKid, Sophie Fatale and for reviewing :)

Mick saw me and grinned, his gang gathering around us. I noticed Teresa talking to Grace but she stopped when she saw me.

"Well if it isn't little miss Jane," scoffed Mick and his gang laughed.

"Well if it isn't Mickey Mouse," I retorted, prompting Mick's gang to fight laughing harder. Mick's eyes narrowed and he glared at me angrily.

"Think that's funny? Do you Jane?" sneered Mick coming towards me, his journey was interrupted by Teresa stepping between us.

"Leave him alone," Teresa snapped at him, I feld proud my friend was defending me and also quite anxious that Mick might wanna get her too.

"What are you going to do about?" Mick replied grinning, he obviously didn't see her as a threat, "you're just a sixth grader and a girl no less,"

"I'm gonna kick you in the balls," Teresa answered sweetly while launching a kick at the intended target. Mick immediately fell to the ground and Teresa and I surpressed gigles as she led me away from them, John following.

"Thank you Teresa, for saving me. You are brilliant," I told her as we reached Grace.

"It was nothing," Teresa waved it off but blushed at the compliment, she was still smiling though, such a pretty smile.

"Hi Patrick," said Grace cheerfully, "and hi Red John. I mean John," she corrected quickly, John nodded distantly.

"Hey guys, and Grace," Wayne smiled widely from the school gate as he saw Grace and happily came over to us, looking slightly surprised to see John. We all muttered hi in return except John, who seemed content to only nod. I heard the bell go and we shuffled into the school.

I arrived in the science lab and took a seat next to Teresa. The teacher, Mr Long, began the lesson in an achingly boring voice, I found my attention drifting as I struggled to concentrate on his dull droning voice. Eventually he shut up however and assainged us a homework project, I was delighted when he made me and Teresa lab partners.

"Why are you friends with Red John?" Teresa asked as we began writing notes on the periodic table of elements, "he's a creep,"

"Maybe he wouldn't be if he wasn't such an outcast. We're still friends though right?" I added slightly nervously, was it against the rules to have two friends that one didn't like each other or something? I was really new at this and had no desire to lose Teresa's friendship, even if she did make me feel guilty about her mother. _I really should tell her the truth now._

"Of course we're still friends, it's just a shock to see Red John with you like that," Teresa smiled slightly at me, "you got hydrogen and helium mixed up by the way," she added indicating my work.

"Show off," I muttered back returning her grin, which widened triumphantly. Before long it was recess and I was worried about facing Mick again. It wasn't really smart to make an enemy out of him and I definately didn't think my Dad wouldn't approve.

"Don't worry about it Patrick. There are far worse things in the world than bullies," Teresa told me as we sat on the wall, "are you gonna be coming over and making dinner again? That soup was really great," I couldn't help but smile at the compliment.

"Okay," I agreed.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, Mick having been avoiding us. Everyone now thought less of him, thanks to Teresa, and he was pretty embarrassed about it.

After school we picked up Teresa's brothers and went to her house. This time we made meatloaf, and by we I mean me. Teresa however managed to succede in burning the potatoes we were having with it, and I only left her alone for five minutes! I was more amused than annoyed though. James offered to clean up so me and Teresa went off to do our homework before I left.

I walked home happily, it was great having friends. Especially when they were as great as Teresa. On the other hand I knew it wouldn't last, before too long Dad would be moving us on and even if he didn't there was still Angela. I had to tell Teresa at some point, it was only fair to be honest with her but... how do you tell your friend you killed their mother? She'll never ever talk to me again.

I reached my house and went inside, slightly surprised to see a woman leaving. She was much more my Dad's type, blond and young.

"Goodbye Alex," she said happily with a German accent as she kissed my Dad on the cheek. She cast me a disapproving look and left without another word. I felt a pang of resentment, Angela hadn't even been dead for a week and he had already moved onto another woman.

"Hungry Pat?" my Dad asked me matter of factly.

"No,"

"You have to get over Angelina," he moaned irritably.

"Angela," I snapped back, he should at least try to get her name right! I was rewarded by a slap.

"It doesn't matter what she was called Patrick, she wasn't important," he retorted angrily.

"Yes she was! She was kind and sweet and she... she had four kids, they're really great people, and now she's dead!" I yelled miserably filling with guilt.

"That doesn't have anything to do with us!" he screamed back.

"Yes it does! Teresa's my best friend and her mother's dead-"

"I wasn't the one that bloody killed her! And if you feel guilty it's your own damn fault for hanging around with her kids!" my Dad interrupted furiously and pushed me hard, I fell painfully into a small table, "go to bed!"

I ran up the stairs quickly and hurried into my room. Slipping quickly into my jammies I climbed into bed. Why did my Dad have to be like that? Would it kill him to be nice to people, or at the very least his own son? Maybe I deserved it, after all I'd been the one to kill Angela.

I glanced at the picture beside my bed, it was the only picture I had with my mother in it. I picked it up and looked at it in the glow of the moonlight. I have her eyes, the same shape and color, her hair is curly and blond like mine too. In the picture I'm a baby and she's holding me close to her and smiling, forever frozen in time in that one moment of happiness.

I smiled at the picture as I put it back. We both looked so happy in the picture, for the first time in days I drifted into a peaceful sleep...


	7. Chapter 7: Skipping School

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is not mine and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Less homework today :) so I managed to write this. Thanks to all my readers, especially Sophie Fatale and THE MENTALIST ROCKS, thanks guys :)

I opened my eyes, pleased that I'd finally had a good nights sleep. I was slightly disappointed it was Friday, had it really only been five days since I'd started middle school? I quickly dressed and rushed off to school, Dad wasn't up but that didn't bother me. It was usually better to avoid him when he was mad at me.

"Hi Patrick!" called John as he came to walk beside me.

"Hi John,"

"Teresa Lisbon is your friend isn't she? I used to not like her but now she'd got no mother she'll be just as much an outcast as us," John chatted away happily, it never ceased to amaze me how he could sound so delighted yet he remained impassive. "How was your evening? Mine sucked, I _hate _being in foster care. My foster parents are bastards and everyone is always telling me to smile. I had it Patrick and I hate them and I hate my social worker and I hate hate _hate _my foster siblings,"

"I'm really sorry, it must suck," I pitied him, at least Teresa had her brothers and I had my Dad. Even if he was mean sometimes. John had no one.

"Yeah," John replied bitterly as we arrived at the school. I saw Teresa talking to Grace and went over to them.

"Hi Teresa, hi Grace," I said happily.

"Hi Patrick," they said together, then I noticed what Teresa was wearing: her mother's cross. My heart sank as guilt jumped on top of it, dragging it to the depths of my feet.

"Do you like it?" she asked me smiling, "I know I don't wear jewellry but it was my Mom's. It was her favourite," her smile saddened slightly.

"I think she'd want you to have it," I answered truthfully, Angela definately would have wanted her daughter to have it, "and it's nice, especially on you, if you like that sort of thing,"

"What sort of thing?" asked Grace, I was slightly surprised by Teresa's blushing.

"Religion,"

"Don't you believe in God, Patrick?" Grace looked worried.

"No," I replied, still trying to figure out why Teresa had blushed.

"But if you don't God will damn you to hell when you die!" Grace seemed really worried by this now.

"He doesn't have to believe in God if he doesn't want to," John said defensively.

"Who doesn't believe in God?" Wayne said as he approached us. Grace immediately smiled as he stood beside her, they subtly entwinned their fingers together. I was glad they seemed happy. The bell quickly ran and we went off to class, science first, I sat down happily beside Teresa as the guy began his boring speech.

"Patrick," Teresa whispered to me slowly, I frowned at the serious tone.

"What?" I asked, she bit her lip nervously.

"It's my Mom's funeral today, I have to go just before recess. I have a note I'm meant to give in and everything. But well..." she trailed off and shifted uncomfortabyl, "I know I've only known you five days but you're my best friend and I... wanted to know... if you'd come to Mom's funeral with me. I know that you never met her and you'll have to skip school to come but... I just... I mean I'll understand if you don't want to come," she concluded lamely.

I had a sudden shock of emotions hit me as she said this. I was honored she trusted me enough to want me to go, guily that I was the one who'd killed her mother and fearful of what my Dad would think. My honor won, there was no way I was going to let not just my friend but my _best _friend down.

"I'll go Teresa," I replied and the corners of her mouth smiled slightly.

"Thank you Patrick,"

I was still aprehensive about the whole thing, especially the skipping school part. I made my plan however of escape however and come geography it was time to pull ot off.

The lesson carried on as normal and I watched the large ticking clock. I was planning to leave before Teresa, so it wouldn't look suspicous. About halfway through the lesson I pulled my nerves together and called out loudly.

"How's it going with your wife?" I held my breath, their was no going back now. Mr Simmons came slowly towards me, he was mustering all his self control not to be angry as he approached me.

"Patrick-"

"You have no right to want her back, you're the one that cheated on her and now you expect her to come back to you?" I snorted, "if you wanted her to stay with you, you shouldn't have screwed her sister," I was just guessing with the sister thing, Dad always said if you saw an oppurtunity go for it. It worked though, Mr Simmons went red with rage.

"GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM NOW PATRICK JANE!!!" he bellowed, the room actually shook and he looked ready to burst with rage. I smirked at him before scuttling out of the classroom.

This was my chance, while he was trying to calm down. Carefully but quickly I made my way out of the school, being able to pick locks really came in useful. I went a way down the road and waited for Teresa to come out.

"Patrick?" she hissed looking around for me as she came down the road.

"Here!" I leaped out of my hiding place and grinned at her, she jumped in surprise.

"Patrick! You scared me half to death!" she complained but failed to surpress a smile, "come on. We've got to get my brothers,"

I followed her down the road to the elementary school and waited patiently outside while she retrieved them.

"Alright, Patrick's coming!" James grinned and gave me a high five.

"Yay!" piped Chris hugging me, it warmed my heart to know that they were actually quite fond of me.

"Let's go then," said Matt solemnly.

"Let's go then," repeated Teresa trying to sound brave. I squeezed her hand to reassure her and she held on tight. Chris took my other hand and James took Teresa's grabbing Matt's hand too. We headed towards the funeral...


	8. Chapter 8: Angela's Funeral

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **This chapter is quite dark and sad, just thought I'd warn you, I hope you like it anyway, _please _review. Thank you so much to jisbon-sessed for reviewing and to my readers for reading. I apologize if my funeral is unrealistic I have never been to a funeral before, so I just went by what I've seen on TV and read on Wikipedia. Also I aced an english test :) sorry rambling...

We arrived at the funeral home. There were tons of people I didn't recognize all dressed in black, I became painfully aware I was in jeans and a navy sweater.

"There's my wonderful grandkids!" called out an elderly man as I walked towards them followed closely by an elderly woman.

"Grandpa! Grandma!" the Lisbon children all ran over and hugged the couple, I felt so out of place here amoungst all these grieving people. People who were grieving because of me.

While Teresa and her brothers were engaged in quiet conversation with their grandparents I found myself drawn to the casket. Angela was dressed up nicely and her arm was attached again, her eyes and mouth were now shut and she was no longer covered in blood. But she was still dead, because of me. I was filled with self loathing as I hung my head shamefully, fighting off waves of tears.

"Who are you?" growled a deep voice, I looked up to see a man standing there. He was stocky, tall with dark hair and eyes and he stank of alcohol, he must be Daniel Lisbon, Teresa's Dad. He was depressed and an alcoholic, clearly. A wave of anger temporarily replaced my guilt as I rememberes he had beaten Teresa and little Chris.

"He's my friend. I asked him to come," Teresa answered as she came to stand beside me, "everyone, this is my friend Patrick Jane," she announced to her father and grandparents who'd followed her over here.

"He's magic," Chris said happily.

"He's psychic too and he can read minds," added James proudly.

"And he makes great meatloaf. Don't forget the meatloaf!" Chris continued, I couldn't help but blush at their praise. The adults however looked at me doubtfully, except Daniel who shrugged and walked off.

"Patrick, these are my Grandparents," Teresa introduced them.

"Hi," I muttered nervously as the Grandfather turned his green eyes on me.

"Nice to meet you Patrick," said the Grandmother finally forcing a smile while her husband surveyed my clothes, he was annoyed with my appearance.

"I'm sorry I'm not wearing black. My attendance was kinda last minute," I told them as their eyes opened in shock.

"How did you know I was thinking about...?" gasped the Grandfather.

"That's Patrick Jane, he knows stuff like that," Chris grinned again proudly, "what's in that big brown box?"

Everyone went deathly silent at his question, he just looked at us impatiently waiting for an answer.

"It's Mom's dead body, you stupid idiot," Matt snapped angrily, Chris burst into tears. His Grandmother picked him up and whispered to him soothingly.

"Matt, please try and be nice to your brother okay?" his Grandfather looked sad as he spoke.

"No it's not okay. My Mom is dead," Matt retorted, tears floating around his eyes.

"Oh, Matt," the old man tried again but Matt turned and walked off in the direction of the restroom.

"I'll go see if he's okay," mumbled James hurrying off after him. The grandfather sighed mournfully.

"He'll be okay, he's just greiving. He's been bottling up his emotions for awhile and the funeral is just overwhelming him," I told him trying to sound comfortingly. He looked at me and smiled slightly.

"Yeah. Angela was very sweet, we all miss her and that bastard in the other car walking away without a scratch!" he sighed again as masses of guilt continued to crush me, I suddenly felt so smothered in this building.

Luckily we were quickly rejoined by Teresa's Grandmother and brothers, Matt even apologized to Chris. The funeral procession was painfully slow and felt horrible at the amount of people there, Angela was well liked. And I'd killed her just because I was lonely. _How could I have been so selfish?_

We arrived at the small church and went into the building, as always in churches I felt like a traitor. Like I was violating their religion being in their sacred place when I knew it was a lie. We took our seats, I was between Teresa and Chris, her brothers and Grandfather were on her other side and her Dad and Grandmother were on Chris' other side.

I sat respectfully through the prayers, bible readings and speech from the priest. Then the priest gave the eulogy, detailing how wonderful Angela was all her volunteer work and he went on and on about great she was. I felt so unbelievably guilty, especially when Teresa kept squeezing my hand. She was trying so hard not to cry as was I. Her brothers' faces were all streamed with silent tears. I hated myself so much.

Finally it was over and we moved into the cemetary, the pallbearers dutifully carrying the casket with Angela's body. It was lowered slowly into the ground and we stood watching it, I was right beside it. Teresa was gripping onto my hand for dear life. One by one Angela's family approached the grave and whispered their goodbyes while throwing in a rose. Her husband went first and silently threw in the rose before moving away. Next came her parents.

"Goodbye Angela, our beautiful little angel," she spoke so quitely I barely heard her. Her husband put her arms around her comfortingly and they moved to stand beside Dan. James walked briskly forward and threw down the rose.

"I hope you like it in heaven Mommy. I'll try be really good so I can see you again. Until we meet again," James wiped away his tears and went over to his Grandparents, next was Matt.

"You were the best Mom, the very best. Goodbye," Matt threw in his rose and hurried over to the others as fresh tears washed his face. Chris went next.

"Bye-bye Mommy," he said simply flinging in the rose as he ran to the others before bursting into tears again. Teresa let go of my hand and walked over to the grave.

"I'll never forget you Mom, I'll try my best to be strong. I'll make you proud of me, I promise. I love you," Teresa threw down her rose and waited with the others. I didn't have a rose but I walked to the grave anyway.

"I am so sorry Angela. I'd give anything to take it back. I am so sorry," I whispered it so quietly so that no one would hear, I had hoped it'd make me feel better but it didn't. She was still dead and she'd never know how sorry I was. I went over to stand with the others as other people took their turns.

We then went back to the funeral home for the wake, everyone was so quiet, deathly quiet. I wished they would say something, anything as long as he wasn't about Angela. I wondered again if it was possible to die of guilt.

People went around giving Teresa's Dad and Grandparents their consolances while nibbling the snacks and sipping the drinks. I wasn't hungry or thirsty and neither was Teresa, or her brothers. The five of us were all huddled together in a little clump out of the way of the adults.

Time passed slowly, none of us saying much, even Chris was quiet he held Teresa's hand as tightly as she had held mine earlier. Finally guests started to drift away till no one but Teresa, her brothers, father and grandparents remained and whoever owned the funeral home.

"We should go home now," said Dan.

"I'll drive," offered the Grandmother.

"What about Patrick? Someone should take him home," Teresa added quietly.

"I'll just walk,"

"But it's black outside!" protested Teresa.

"I'll be fine,"

"Teresa's right, I'll take you home," said the Grandfather kindly, "come on Teresa, Patrick,"

He started to walk to the door, Chris threw his arms around me.

"Bye-bye Patrick," he said pulling away, I was touched. Chris was a sweet kid. And I'd robbed him of his mother.

"Bye Patrick," mumbled James and Matt as I followed Teresa to her Grandfather's car. We drove in silence, except for my directions.

"Isn't this the road Angela died on?" he asked as we came onto the road.

"I don't know," I lied, I knew it was. I'd seen the car wreck right here, five days ago. He parked outside my house and we all got out of the car, despite my insistance I could walk to the door fine. He knocked loudly and after a few minutes m Dad came to the door, he did not look at all pleased.

"Hello. You are Patrick's father I presume?" asked the Grandfather politely, I really should have asked for his name.

"No I'm freakin' Santa Claus! Of course I'm his bleedin' father," Dad snapped, he was drunk.

"I err... I'm Albert Anderson, I came to bring your son back," the Grandfather said somewhat nervously.

"Alex," my Dad reached out his hand and Albert shook it.

"It was kind of you to let him come to the funeral," Albert continued pleasantly, his manner reminded me of Angela.

"Funeral?"

"My daugher, Angela Lisbon,"

"Oh yeah," he flashed me a dark look, I knew what that look meant.

"As I was saying it was nice of you and your wife-"

"I don't have a wife. Patrick's mother is dead," my Dad cut in bluntly, Albert looked shocked but regained his compusure.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend,"

"No problem. Thanks for bringing Patrick back, you can go now," my Dad's level tone was quite commanding.

"Okay. Goodbye Patrick, it was nice meeting you," Albert trudged back to the car, Teresa hugged me again.

"Thank you," she whispered before running to the car with Albert, they got in and drove off as I went miserably into the house.

"What the fuck were you thinking Patrick?! What the bloody hell is wrong with you?!" my Dad screamed furiously, "skipping school to go to Amelia's fucking funeral-"

"ANGELA! Her name was Angela!" I yelled back. My Dad hit me and hit me and hit me over and over again...


	9. Chapter 9: Clocks, Pancakes and Advice

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is not mine and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers, just saw promo for next week's episode of the mentalist and it looks good! :) can't wait, sorry I'm rambling again just excited. Thanks again to my readers and to and jisbon-sessed for reviewing, and don't worry he will tell her just later ;) read on...

I groaned inwardly watching the hands ticking round the clock beside my bed, I had been watching it for ages, ever since I'd stopped crying. The hands seemed to turn acheingly slowly, I groaned as I thought of the word, my body ached all over from the beating. I shouldn't be complaining though I had deserved it, none of this made me feel any better and none of it made it any easier to sleep.

I had tossed and turned for ages trying desperately to slip into a peaceful slumber but to no avail, I wondered why I even bothered. I wished it was a school day tommorrow, well today really it was 03:40, but alas a Saturday. A whole weekend with my hungover father, great.

I continued to watch the clock ticking away beside my bed, it wasn't like I had anything better to do. It was like life really slowly ticking away every second until stopped. The thing was you could never tell how long a life the clock had, it could break at any minute, just after you bought it or after years of use. I had to tell Teresa the truth before one of our clocks broke, she was my best friend and she had a right to know I'd murdered her mother, the selfish part of my brain however didn't want to lose the best friend I'd ever had. Probably the same part that had got Angela killed in the first place.

On the other hand, Teresa had enough to deal with right now then finding out her friend was the one to destroy her life. _Why hadn't I thought of this before?_ I liked that idea, that she had enough to deal with. I'd tell her, just not until after things calmed down at home. That thought did actually make me feel better, but didn't help me sleep.

I waited in bed until dawn before getting up and going downstairs, I decided to make us breakfast- pancakes. I was preparing the ingredients when the doorbell rang. I quickly went to answer it, it was Teresa.

"Hi Patrick," Teresa said grinning.

"Hi," I muttered back in shock, what was she doing here? I was really glad it was cold so I'd put a sweater on.

"Your Dad was being kinda weird yesterday and I never really got the chance to thank you properly for coming to Mom's funeral. It must have really sucked for you, but I'm really really grateful,"

"I didn't mind going, what are friends for?" I managed to smile, still in a panic if she noticed the bruises. Teresa's grin widened then vanished as Chris appeared beside her.

"I told you to wait over there while I talked to Patrick, then we can get pancakes," she snapped iritably.

"But Tessie, I'm hungry now," he moaned.

"It just so happens I was about to have pancakes for breakfast," Chris beamed happily, "would you like some too?"

"Yes!" Chris jumped up and down.

"No, we can't intrude on you like that," Teresa looked embarrassed, she felt like she was being rude to me. Chris' face fell.

"Really I don't mind, it'll be fun. As long as you don't help with the cooking of course," I grinned as she frowned and Chris laughed.

"Yeah, Tessie's a pretty bad cook!" he laughed harder, "please?" he begged looking suddenly serious.

"Fine," she reluctantly agreed, Chris's smile returned.

"I'll get James and Matt!" Chris hurried off and came back with his smiling brothers as they announced their appreciation. I felt happy as I went showed them into the family room.

"You guys can watch TV while I make the pancakes, just don't break anything," I added seriously, Dad hated when I messed with his stuff, especially his expensive stuff. I went into the kitchen and began making pancakes, Teresa joining me and handing me the ingredients, I refused to let her help with the cooking of course, but I enjoyed her company.

"How did your take you skipping school?" she asked suddenly, I barely hid my surprise.

"He... err was pretty mad and he err... told me I couldn't watch TV for a week," was that a suitable punishment? I had no idea, it seemed to satisfy her though and she looked relieved.

"Good, the look your Dad gave you... I was worried you'd be in a body bag," she laughed nervously.

"Wow, Patrick you didn't tell us you were rich!" Chris came into the kitchen grinning, he was holding my Dad's money, (Dad refused to use banks).

"Put that back Chris, my Dad doesn't like people touching his money," I told him trying not to sound mad.

"With some of that money..." Teresa trailed off as she stared transfixed at the bundles of green.

"It doesn't matter!" I snapped, "put it back or you won't get your pancakes," my Dad might actually kill me if any of his money vanished. Chris nodded and went to put it back.

"I'll make sure he does," Teresa whispered and hurried after him, no sooner had she left when my Dad walked in.

"Pat, would you care to explain why the hell there is a group of kids on the living room???" my Dad fought to sound calm and I was impressed he succeded.

"I offered to make them pancakes. We're all having panckaes for breakfasts," the words sounded robotic but I was afraid of my Dad's temper at the moment, emotion might make him react badly.

"Oh hi Mr Jane," said Teresa kindly as she came back into the kitchen, I was relieved, my Dad always kept his cool around other people.

"Please call me Alex," he said kindly giving her a smile. I finished the pancakes and out them on plates before putting them on the table.

"Pancakes! Come and get 'em while they're hot," I called and the other Lisbons rushed in and dug in, Dad, Teresa and I joined them but with slightly more dignity.

"Patrick, you are such a great cook!" commented James happily.

"You're the best Patrick!" Chris said, well at least that's what I think he said, his mouth was filled with pancakes at the time. We finished the food and said goodbye to the Lisbons, all of which were pleased with their meal.

I began doing the dishes, dreading my father's everntual angry outburst.

"Patrick, what the hell were you thinking?! You can't keep doing these things, Patrick, you are just so stupid," he stormed over to me and I shut my eyes bracing myself for the fist, when none came I opened my eyes, "I'm not gonna hit you Patrick, don't look at me like that," my Dad motioned to the family room and we sat down on the couch.

"What is it Dad?" I asked, confused by his unusual behaviour.

"Patrick, we never really had this problem before, but now we do,"

"What problem?" I asked again nervously.

"Don't interrupt!" he snapped viciously and I flinched, Dad forced himself to calm down before continuing, "your `friends`Pat. You must have noticed that I don't have any friends, do you know why?"

"Because you're mean to everyone so no one likes you?"

"No! Pat please I'm trying not to be mad at you," he sighed, "you can't have friends Patrick,"

"Why... why not?" I was shocked.

"Because Patrick, because... people get in the way Pat, they get in the way of making money and money is more important than anything. You can use people Patrick, manipulate them into being with you by all means but you cannot continue to get attached to people, it is not healthy for your future,"

"But I like having friends! For the first time ever I feel like I matter," I was still reeling from the shock.

"You matter to me! Patrick Jane mark my words, playing with fire gets you burned, these people are going to hurt you. I'm the only one you can trust, these people... they don't matter to you or care about you," I was numbed by his words and then angry, he was just jealous!

"You're wrong about them!" I yelled standing up, my Dad stood too.

"No I'm not and sooner or later you're going to realize that," to my surprise there was no anger in his words, "you have your mother's eyes, did you know that Pat?" he whispered suddenly.

"You're wrong about them!" I yelled again and ran upstairs slamming my bedroom dorr shut. I sat down on the bed, still livid with rage. He just didn't want me to have friends, he just wanted me to be like him and I didn't wanna be like him! I was going to have friends and there was nothing he could do to stop me...


	10. Chapter 10: The Weekend

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thank you again to my readers, especially rigspeltforeverxx and jisbon-sessed for reviewing, thanks alot guy :) Read on...

I spent the rest of Saturday doing my homework and trying not to think about what Dad had said, he was just so strange! I finished all my homeworks and lay down on my bed, I wasn't in any hurry to see my Dad again,

"Pat! I'm going shopping, we're out of beer," I heard my Dad yell up at me, then I heard footsteps and he opened my door, "when I get back we're do some more stuff on hypnotism, okay?"

"Okay," I replied indifferently.

"You've had long enough to sulk about your friends, I warned you Pat but if you wanna get burned fine. This is gonna be one of those times when you're gonna have to learn the hard way, you're as stubborn as your bleedin' mother did you know that? And your `friends` better not be here when I get back," he added and left. Still bewildered by my Dad behaviour and mention of my Mom, he never spoke of her and now twice in one day?

Shaking my head I went down stairs, grabbed some chips and sat on the couch flicking the TV remote, nothing on really. I'd never found TV that appealing, partially because my Dad constantly liked to point out how rubbish it was or how hot the lead woman was or just telling me the plot. I was only doing it to pass the time before my hypnotism lessons began.

My Dad was a hypnotist on Cragen's travelling carnival. We'd lived with the carnival until I had to go to school, that's how we'd started our current situation, although we always went back the carnival during summer vacation. I wasn't sure if we'd be allowed back, Cragen had caught my Dad and his daughter together (she was only 17), we were been gone before the night was over.

I had liked it on the carnival, all the people had been teaching me to be `psychic` since forever. Cragen was the magician and had taught me all his tricks so I could assist him, while his wife Madam Bella was the fortune teller and had taught me to observe ever since my mother had died. I hadn't even said goodbye to them, I thought sadly, I wondered if they missed me.

My Dad returned and he spent the day drilling me on hypntoism and going through various things in detail. I spent Sunday doing the same until the evening.

"Okay Pat, that's enough for this weekend. I'm entertaining guests today and you'll ruin the mood or else grow all attached and weepy when the die, so I want you to get lost for a few hours. They should be gone by midnight, okay?" he instructed waving me towards the door, I nodded as he shut the door on me.

I hated when my did that, groaning I kicked a stone and trudged along the road then smiled, I could just go the Lisbons! After all Teresa was my best friend, I just hoped it'd be okay with her. I began the journey to her house and then I noticed sirens, I felt my heart tighten and I started running, _please let them be okay, please let them be okay, please let them be okay._

I stopped running when I saw Teresa and her brothers standing beside the police tape. Relief flooded through me and I relaxed slightly.

"Patrick?" she said as I stood beside her, "what are you doing here?"

"I'll explain later, what's going on here?" I asked breathless, running wasn't my strong point.

"It's Sam's house," James explained looking solemn, "you know Sam Bosco? That we're all enemies with?" I nodded.

"His Mom and Dad also take in foster kids-" began Teresa.

"Like Red John," Chris butted in.

"It's rude to interrupt," moaned Matt.

"Both of you shut up! Well someone broke in and killed two of his foster siblings, his Dad and his baby sister," Teresa finished and my eyes widened in shock.

"Hi Patrick, Teresa and Lisbon brothers," John said as he ducked under the police tape, his clothes were bloody.

"Hi," I replied feeling relief he was okay, he may creep me out but he was still my friend after all.

"We're so sorry about your foster sibling and father," said James.

"It's okay, I didn't like them. Especially the baby, it used to cry all night," John sounded so matter of fact.

"Do you know who killed them?" Chris asked.

"No, but whoever it was drew a smiley face on the wall. In their blood," John answered coldly and Chris looked horrified. I looked up at the house and saw Sam standing beside a woman who was weeping uncontrollable, he was trying desperately to comfort her.

We all fell silent and shivered in the cold night air looking around at the dark for hidden eyes. A cop approached us.

"It's not really safe for you kids to be out after dark," I recognized him, the same one on the scene of Angela's death. I hoped he wouldn't recognize me, "what are you doing here anyway?"

"Sam and his Mom came over to offer their condolances on Mom being dead, we offered to walk them home and then we saw the police tape and sirens so we have been here," Teresa explained.

"And I was at the house, I was hiding in the closet from my foster brother Ben and when I came out they were dead and I couldn't wake them up. I was bored waiting for paramedics to look at me so when saw my friends over here so I came over to say hi," John's voice was expressionless.

"You should really be on the other side of the tape then kid," he looked at me curiously, he remembered me but couldn't remember where he'd seen me, I almost sighed with relief, "and you should be getting home, where do you live?"

"Just over there," Chris pointed to his house, it was a a few house up from Sam's with a long dirt driveway.

"Well you best be off now, and be careful," he added. John hugged me suddenly.

"Goodnight Patrick and remember, smile," he smiled as I frowned in puzzlement and followed the Lisbons. We got to the house and Teresa and I put her brothers to bed, her Dad was passed out and snoring from his bedroom. Teresa got us some OJ and we sat sipping it in the family room.

"Creepy huh? Our own neighbourhood, and poor Sam, even as his enemy I don't believe anyone deserves _that," _Teresa explained nervously, I could only nod still wondering at John, I felt like I was missing something, something important. We were silent again for awhile lost in thoughts, I finally brought up the courage to talk to her about Angela.

"Teresa, I have to tell you something. It's about your Mom," I glance up at her expecting a reply but she was asleep, her eyes closed and her glass slipping from her grip. I grabbed it and put it onto the table, _I finally decide to tell her and she's asleep!_

I let out a frustrated sigh and looked at the clock on the wall, it was 11:45, wow time had passed exceptionally quickly. I stood up and looked back at Teresa, making up my mind I moved her very slowly and very carefully so she was lying down, then I retrieved her duvet and through it over her.

Pleased I switched off the lights and left, feeling extremely nervous about walking all the way home. In the middle of the night. By myself. With a psychotic killer on the loose. Every shadow looked like a hand, every noise a gunshot, I heard footsteps, there was a man standing beside me.

"Are you lost little boy?" he said placing a hand on my shoulder. My terror got the better of me, I screamed and ran, I ran all the way home bursting through the front door into my house. I slammed the door shut and stood trying to calm my rapid heartbeat. My Dad came out of the kitchen carrying a toaster pastry, when he saw me he dropped it and ran over to me.

"Pat are you okay? Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?" I was surprised by his concern as he knelt down beside me, I knelt down too feeling exhausted, "Pat?"

"I'm okay... I was just scared," I panted as he hugged me close, I relished in his rare show of affaction and my fear faded slowly.

"Good, I'm glad... Now off to bed with you okay?" he pulled away and I nodded before going into my room and climbing into bed. I slept that night but my dreams were all nightmares...


	11. Chapter 11: Back to School

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is not mine and I get no money from this

I woke up as usual and got ready for school, my Dad wasn't up as usual so I quickly made myself breakfast before leaving. I wasn't really surprised when John didn't join me on the walk to school, most of his family had been killed after all. I arrived in school and Teresa came over to me.

"Hi Patrick, did you get home okay? I kinda fell asleep before you left," she laughed nervously, "it was kind of you to put a blanket over me like that,"

"No problem," I replied smiling slightly.

"Goodmorning losers," announced a girl I didn't recognize as she came over to us with a group of followers.

"Leave us alone Cindi," snapped Teresa.

"Why? I was going to be nice to you because now your Mommy's dead," Cindi mocked and her friends snickered.

"If you're being nice why did you call us losers?" I asked and they all looked stumped.

"We're so sorry, were those words too big for your small brains?" Teresa retorted grinning triumphantly.

"Fine we'll leave you alone. I was only being nice to you anyway because my Mom said she'd buy me some more make-up for my birthday next week if I was nice to you, although you are clearly in more need of make-up than me," Cindi smiled innocently at Teresa and her friends giggled behind her.

"Just leave her alone!" I snapped at them defensively.

"Aww he defended her, that is _so _adorable," said one of Cindi's friends.

"Shut up Emily," snapped Cindi, "let us go," and they walked off, I turned to look at Teresa and was surprised she looked upset.

"Ignore them Teresa, they're just mindless idiots, you're worth more than all of them put together and besides you are far more beautiful than them without make-up," I said as she smiled slighty, I was confused when she blushed. Before I could comment on this Grace scuttled over.

"Hi Teresa! Hi Patrick! You'll never believe how awesome my date with Wayne went on Saturday," Grace was beaming happily as she spoke, "we went to see a movie and it was so hilarious, it was like the best movie ever and then he took me walked me all the way home and then, and then he kissed me! I had such a great time and he asked me out again! Isn't that brilliant?"

"Good for you," said Teresa.

"Yeah," I agreed as the bell went, I hadn't really been listening, I had been watching Mick and his gang. They were all staring at me.

"Come on Patrick, it's proabably best to get to geography on time considering how much the teacher hates you," Teresa laughed as she and Grace led me into school.

"Yeah, he really hates you," Grace agreed as we took our seats, Grace and Wayne kept grinning at each other. Mr Simmons did his best to ignore me completely, vaguely I wondered if I should apologize to him at some point.

"Excuse me?" the class swivelled thier heads to look at the speaker, it was principal Powers.

"Yes?" said Mr Simmons.

"I need to speak with Patrick Jane immediately," she replied and the class laughed again, my cheeks went crimson but I felt slightly better that Teresa, Grace and Wayne didn't laugh.

"No problem! You can have him for as long as you want," Simmons said happily and I went nervously out the door.

"Patrick, do you know why I wanted to talk to you?" she asked levelly.

"Yeah,"

"You skipped school on Friday and I wanna know why!" she demanded angrily.

"I... erm," qucikly I pondered my reply, should I be honest or lie? If I told the truth it might get Teresa in trouble so I decided to lie, "I just was bored,"

"Bored? You find school boring do you?" she yelled, "if you find school so boring why don't I just suspend you for awhile and see if you like it huh? Or maybe I'l just expell you and be done with you!"

"Please don't," I whispered, my voice was barely audibly I was so scared. If I got expelled or suspended... my Dad might actually kill me or at the very least give me a new set of bruises and Teresa, I wouldn't see her!

"I will not have disobedience in my school, do you understand? This school obeys my rules not yours, I will not tolerate you skipping classes for any reason!"

"I'm sorry," I muttered hanging my head.

"You're sorry? Did I just hear right? Well guess what sorry isn't good enough! Every recess for a month you will be in detention, every day after school for a month and if you step out of line just once more, you will be outta this school so fast you won't even know what hit you!" she roared and I winced at the word hit, however I felt unbelievably relieved that I wasn't being expelled, "do you understand?"

"Yes,"

"Yes what?"

"Yes ma'am,"

"Good now get back to class," she snapped in a quieter tone, I hurridly went back into the class, hoping I hadn't done anything else to incurr her wrath.

"How did it go?" Teresa whispered to me.

"Alot of detentions," I whispered back.

"Did you tell her about my Mom's funeral?"

"No,"

"Why not?" Teresa seemed confused by this.

"So you wouldn't get in trouble," I replied simply, she smiled slightly and without warning kissed me on the side of my cheek, I blushed.

"Thank you," she smiled.


	12. Chapter 12: The Day Gets Worse

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mentalist, and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **My Dad fixed his laptop hurray! :) So I have been writing this since 6am. It's a little dark near the end but I hope you like it anyway and thank you so much to rigspeltforeverxx for reviewing and to the rest of you for reading. Anyway read on...

I arrived in the detention room at recess and sat down at a desk. The teacher in the room was Mr Simmons, he glared at me before turning and writing my first line on the chalkboard `I will not skip school` for me to copy. Sighing I began writing it out repeatedly, I also realized this was a good oppurtunity to apologize to Mr Simmons.

"Mr Simmons?" I asked while still writing.

"Yes Patrick?" he answered stiffly.

"I would like to apologize for upsetting you on Friday, I only said it to make you send me out so I could skip school. I'm sorry, I really hope you and your wife work it out. Trust me, she just needs some time and then she'll come around," I said. There was silence.

"Are you really psychic?" he asked eventually.

"Think of a shape, any shape," I told him as I turned to look at him. He was sitting looking at me intently.

"Okay, done," he said whilst cocking his head to one side and studying me curiously.

"Square," I replied and he gasped in shock and awe, my Dad always said that was when the fish had taken the bait.

"So you are really psychic?" he looked awestruck at me while he spoke, I just nodded, "wow, that is amazing Patrick, absolutely amazing," he smiled at me before his expression became serious, "so do you really think she'll forgive me? We've been together 31 years, I was drunk out of my mind and it was just the once. It was the first time I'd ever cheated on her, I barely remember it but her sister still told," he looked anxious and desperate.

"She will, she just needs some time. It might help if you made her feel appreciated and let her know how sorry you are," I answered carefully, he nodded eagerly at all my words, my Dad would say he was now gutted and ready to hang on the wall. I just hoped I was right about it.

"What can I do exactly?" he begged of me. I began to sway on my feet and did my best to look ill.

"I- I- I this is too much," I said leaning on the desk, "my gift... it takes it toll... I am too weak, it drains me," I continued, Mr Simmons was definately buying this. He came over and helped me into his chair.

"Will you be okay?" he asked genuinely concerned.

"Yes, I just... need a minute," I gasped, still not believing how gullible people could be. I was quite pleased with myself, in less than five minutes he had transformed from hating me to practically worshipping me. I was about to convince him to let me off detention when the door opened and principal Powers called me over. Feeling nervous again I walked slowly to the door, still acting slightly unsteady on my feet.

The principal led me to her office and I was surprised to see Teresa sitting there, the principal motioned for me to sit down and I did so, shooting a puzzled glance at Teresa.

"Patrick, Teresa has just being explaining to me how you skipped school to got to her mother's funeral. Is this true?" the principal enquired as she sat down in her large leather chair.

"Err... yeah,"

"Why didn't you tell me this earlier?" she continued, fixing me with a piercing stare.

"I didn't want to get her in trouble," I answered truthfully and she nodded slowly.

"In light of this I have decided my punishment may have been slightly harsh, it was an admirable thing to do... just the wrong way to do it. You shall only have a week of recess detentions and Miss Lisbon will be joining you," she looked at Teresa briefly, "just don't do it again,"

Surpessing a smile Teresa and I nodded in agreement and left for our next class.

"You didn't have to do that," I pointed out.

"You didn't have to come to my mother's funeral," she answered grinning at me, "friendship works both ways Patrick, you can't always be the one to take the fall for me," I nodded slowly and returned her smile, my mind wandering back to the kiss.

Lessons passed without further incident and finally it was lunch. Teresa and I took our places at a table and began our meals when Grace and Wayne approached us.

"Mind if we sit here?" Grace asked politely and we nodded. They sat down opposite us smiling before quickly striking up a conversation with us. It was idle smalltalk but it felt great to be included in a conversation, even if I had trouble keeping up with the latest gossip.

We finished lunch along with lessons, then I went home with Teresa and her brothers. I made them dinner with Teresa's help, and by help I mean she managed to set fire to the eggs, her brothers fell about laughing of course while we desperately fought with the fire extinguisher to put it out.

Apart from that minor set back dinner turned out okay and we assaigned James with dinner duty while we started on out homework, we were just about finished when her Dad came home. We were so engrossed in the properties of angles in degrees, Teresa and I didn't notice he was home until we heard Chris scream.

Leaping to our feet we ran into the family room and saw him striking Chris with a fire poker, without thinking I grabbed it before he could he could hit Chris again. Searing pain burned my skin and I half surpressed a scream, yanking my arm away he struck me with it instead. It caught my shoulder painfully and I fell onto the floor.

"Dad stop! Stop! Put down the fire poker- just- just put it down," Teresa yelled while trying to stay calm, to be honest I was more focused on the stench of my burnt flesh and the numbness spreading down my arm.

He threw down the fire poker angrily, the carpet sizzled and fried as it came into contact with the white hot metal. Meanwhile Teresa's Dad stormed over to her yelling.

"How dare you tell me what to do! How dare you Tessa, how dare you!" he screamed and I could hear him beating her.

Although it hurt to ignore her, my main focus though was on the fire poker. Where it had came into contact with the shag. Where a small fire had appeared.

"James! We need water _now_," I spoke as calmly as I could manage, making sure to emphasize now, he looked at me puzzled before he noticed the fire, his eyes widened and he ran towards the kitchen, "Matt, help him," I told Matt who was standing there silently, he jumped into action when I spoke however.

Meanwhile I stood up and scooped up Chris' limp body, I carried him into this room and laid him gently on his bed, it was hard as my left arm was numb and my hand was in agony. I checked his pulse and found it, I allowed myself a relieved breath before charging back into the family room.

Matt stood beside a blackened section of the carpet holding a large empty bowl, James was placing the fire poker back beside the fire and Dan had stopped beating Teresa, he walked past me unsteadily and into his room. I ignored him and ran towards Teresa, she wasn't moving...


	13. Chapter 13: Sick

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thank you again to my readers, especially Sophie Fatale and jisbon-sessed for reviewing, thanks alot guy :) Bit dark again be warned, Jane's in pretty bad shape and I'm sorry if my medical knowledge is inaccurate however I did actually research burns before I wrote this so I hope it's okay...(please review!)

"Teresa?!" I yelled running towards her, I fell to my knees and shakily checked her pulse. I allowed myself a relieved breath, she was alive. I saw a small cresent shaped cut on her head and blood on the small end table beside her. She'd most likely hit her head and been knocked out, at least she was alive. That was the most important thing.

"Is she okay Patrick?" James asked from behind me.

"She's gonna be fine James, don't worry. She'll be awake soon, she's tough, she's a fighter," I answered shakily, my shoulder was stinging painfully and my hand even more so, my arm was regaining sensation however. Unlike Teresa who lay there unmoving save for the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

"Should be move her into her bed or onto the couch or something?" James forced a smile, "it seems mean to leave her on the floor like that."

"Okay," as gently as I could I lifted her up, she was a deadweight and James moved over to help me. We carried her carefully into her room and put her into the bed. Matt pulled the cover her and we went slowly and silently back into the family room.

I collapsed into the cozy couch and got comfy, desperately trying to ignore the agonizing screams of pain coming from my hand and my mind's panicked worry of Teresa, and Chris. _They'd be fine in the morning_, I kept telling myself. What else could I do? I wanted to through my options but my eyes had other ideas, they fluttered shut against my will and I found myself slipping into the peaceful slumber which had been elluding me for some time...

*****

I was awakened by the stabbing pain in my hand, forcing my crusty eyes open I saw sunlight streaming into the Lisbon family room. I groaned and looked around, James and Matt were slumped against each other on the other couch dozing in the bright beams of sunshine.

I was not feeling well at all, my stomach churned and I felt sick and weak, my head throbbed painfully and I was sure I had a fever. I glanced down at hand, slowly unclenching it, the burn was red, raw and blistery, it also seemed splotchy, swollen, it was oozing and it stank. If this was just my burn... how was Chris?

Worrying thoughts of Teresa and Chris stalked me into the kitchen as I ran my hand under the cold tap, it didn't make it hurt any less and it hurt alot. I turned off the cold tap and decided to check on Teresa and Chris. I entered Teresa's room and walked over to her prone form imersed in the bed covers. I approached cautiously and to my surprise she opened her eyes and smiled slightly at me.

"Morning Patrick," her smile abruptly faded and she sat bolt upright, "what time is it? Why are you here? Are you hurt? Where is Chris? Is he okay? Are my brother's okay? Patrick answer me!" she snapped hurridly, scowling at me.

"One question at a time, please!" I told her exasperated, she softened her features and bit her lip nervously, "firstly I don't know what time it is, secondly I'm here because I fell asleep here and just woke up a minute ago, thirdly I'll be fine-" I wasn't so sure of this but I didn't want her to know, "fourthly Chris is in his room, fifthly I haven't checked on him yet and finally Matt and James are fine and are sleeping in the living room," I finally allowed myself a breath but my stomach betrayed me, I felt myself pale, dashing into the bathroom I spewed out the contents of my gut.

I finished retching and went shakily over to the basin and washed my mouth out, my throat still tasted like bile and I felt no better.

"Are you okay Patrick?" Teresa asked from the doorway, she looked so concerned, I was touched.

"I'll be fine... How's Chris?" I answered anxiously, genuinely worried about the little guy.

"I'll just go check on him," Teresa mumbled biting her lip as she went into the corridor, I sighed shakily half wishing I was curled up in bed... _crap!_ My Dad had no idea where I was... I groaned miserably and turned when I heard footsteps, it was Teresa's Dad.

"What are you doing here kid?" he asked, his eyes seething with anger as he approaced me. He was a big man, he towered above me.

"Patrick he- Dad?" Teresa called panicky as she ran up the corridor, I didn't have to hear her sentance, from the look on her face... Chris couldn't be doing good.

"Tessa, why is your boyfriend in my house?" he asked turning his glare on her.

"He's not my boyfriend..." she mumbled blushing, if I hadn't felt so ill I might've cared, "Dad, we need to get Chris to a hospital," she finished more firmly.

"Why?"

"Because you beat him half to death with a fire poker and he is really not looking so hot!" she screeched at him fiercely as tears escaped her emerald eyes.

"No I didn't," he scoffed, "don't tell lies Tessa."

"I'm not lying! You attacked him and me and Patrick. We all saw you, you just came home drunk and- and I don't even know why," she sobbed, I went over to her and put my arm around her, casting a dark look at Dan.

"I'm sure I would remember something like that," he protested.

"It's true," I managed to say.

"Yeah," agreed James as he and Matt joined us in the bathroom doorway.

"But, I would remember that!"

"Can we just concentrate on helping Chris, please?" Teresa said finding her voice again as she hurridly wiped away tears, she didn't pull away from my embrace though.

"Fine," he grunted, "let's check on him," and the Lisbons went to check on him, except Teresa. She put her hand to my forehead and frowned, biting her lip like Angela did.

"You're burning up Patrick," she whispered worridly.

"I'll be fine," I replied stiffly.

"Patrick, your forehead's on fire, you were puking your guts out and you smell like hell," she argued.

"My hand is what stinks," I muttered mildly. Teresa looked even more worried but the other Lisbons returned before she could say anything else.

"I'm gonna take him to the hospital Tessa, he's in a bad way," her father announced gruffly.

"I wanna go with," Teresa said somewhat nervously.

"Fine," he grunted, "come on then."

"What about Patrick?" Teresa asked as my knees buckled beneath me, she caught me awkwardly and sat me down on the toilet seat.

"He better come to," agreed Dan reluctantly.

"No!" I gasped, my heart beat steadily increasing, if I went to the hosptial then they'd see the bruises and they'd put me into care. I'd never see my Dad again! "I'll be fine, just take me home," I was disappointed that my voice sounded as weak as I felt.

"How about we call your Dad from the hospital? Don't you wanna know if Chris is okay?" Teresa asked me sweetly, I lifted my heavy head to look into her concerned eyes before I nodded. Bad idea, a wave of nausea hit me. And damn my weakness! Never let anyone see your weak, that's what my Dad said.

In a matter of minutes we were all in Angela's SUV on our way to the hospital. I was in the passanger seat, Dan was driving the boys and Teresa were in the back with Teresa holding Chris as he wasn't concious.

"Now we are going to tell the medical people that a stranger attacked you. Understand?" commanded Dan.

"Why?" asked Matt defiantly.

"Do you want to be taken away?!" he roared angrily.

"No," whimpered Matt.

"Than keep your bloody mouth shut!!" he screamed at the poor boy.

"Leave him alone," said Teresa firmly.

"Make me!" he retorted.

"We're here," I mumbled quietly. We all went silent as Dan pulled into the hospital parking lot...


	14. Chapter 14: Reception

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to my reviewers Habeous Corpus, THE MENTALIST ROCKS, rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed and Sophie Fatale, five for one chapter? Really made me smile :) Would have updated this sooner but my Dad wanted his laptop back. Also anyone see Redline yesterday? I loved it!

"I think I'm just gonna stay in the car," I mumbled sleepily as I closed my tired eyes and rested my head against the window, it felt so heavy.

"No your not!" snapped Teresa as she yanked open my door from the outside and I half fell out of my seat.

"What did you do that for?" I moaned half heartedly undoing my seatbelt before jumping unsteadily out if the SUV.

"Are you gonna stand there chatting all day while my son dies or are we gonna help him?!" roared Dan.

Bastard, I thought, if you hadn't attacked the poor kid he'd be fine. What kind of monster does that to their own son? Let alone a five-year-old. I tried not to think of my Dad as I followed the Lisbons shakily to the hospital. I'm sure Dad had an excuse, he _must_ have a good excuse... and he still didn't know where I was! I was gonna be in so much trouble.

I looked up and was surprised to find we were in the reception area. Damn illness! I should be paying more attention, but it was hard when I felt like... well feeling like crap was kind of an understatement.

"How can I help you sir?" said the receptionist politely, I recognized her instantly. She was my Dad's girlfriend, well one of them, he usually had more than one at a time.

"My son... I woke up and found him like this, he needs medical attention like now," Dan demanded the last line forcefully and her eyes widened as she saw him. I wondered how he was, I hadn't actually seen him first hand.

The woman... whatever her name was called someone and minutes later a doctor appeared. She was a strict looking woman in her thirties, she had dark hair pulled into a tight bun. I sighed inwardly, a female doctor, when my Dad got here he'd spend the whole time hitting on her.

"Sweet heavens! What the hell happened to the poor boy?" she asked in shock as she saw Chris.

"He was beaten half to death with a fire poker," I said bluntly, and after a sharp look from Dan added, "by some guy who broke into the house," my Dad's girlfriend frowned deeply at me.

"Aren't you that kid Alex has?"

"Hello? We're talking about my son here!" screamed Dan, "ignore the bloody kid, he's not the issue here, my son is the one hurt! Why aren't you people helping him?!" I seethed with anger, bastard! _He_ was the one who had attacked Chris in the first place!

"We are, please calm down Mr...?" the doctor began in a no nonsense tone.

"Lisbon. Mr Daniel Lisbon," his voice rose though as his anger retunred, "my wife died last week and now some random guy broke into my home, brutalized my children and you are telling me to calm down?!" Dan conitnued to scream, he was suffering from one bad hangover I realized suddenly.

"If you calmed down we would be able to help him-" Dan interupted the doctor of course, I could see the rage behind both their eyes building like tempests.

"Why don't you just do your fucking job and help him then?! What the bloody hell are you wating for you dumb bitch?!"

"Both of you just shut up before Chris dies!" I spoke quietly but their anger dimmed slightly.

Within minutes Chris was being whisked away by the doctor, Dan just slumped onto one of the chairs in the waiting room, the rest of us still stood by the desk.

"Can I call my Dad please?" I asked his girlfriend gently, I was afraid to speak louder incase my nausea got the better of me. Silently she punched in a number and handed me the phone.

"If he's coming here I better put more make-up on," she frowned worridly, I was amazed she looked plastered to death with the stuff already, "tell him I say hi," she whispered before walking off.

"_Who are you and what the hell do you want?"_ my Dad's voice snapped angrily over the reciever.

"Dad it's me-"

"_Patrick! Where hell are you? Andrea couldn't have two funerals, especially not one that lasted all night!"_

"Angela," I whispered quietly, I hadn't the strength to argue with him, "I stayed the night at Teresa's, I fell asleep. I'm sorry."

"_You're sorry? You're sorry? You vanish for the whole damn night and all you have to say is you're sorry?"_ he yelled down the phone, I wished he wouldn't yell, my head throbbed, "_why aren't you in school?"_ he demanded just as loud.

"I'm in the hospital. We were attacked-"

_"Attacked?! You have got to kidding?"_ he laughed slightly expecting me to agree but I stayed silent, "_do not let them look at you, do you hear? Do not let them examine you, I'm on my way there,_" then he hung up. I really wished he would stop screaming at me.

"Let's sit down okay?" Teresa said gently and we all sat in the seats, on the opposite side to Dan of course. We sat in silence.

I closed my eyes miserably. I'd never felt so sick in my life. I tried to ignore my suffering but failed miserably. My hand felt raw, my shoulder and head throbbed, my whole body ached from bruises and I felt ready to throw up. The only thoughts distracting me were Chris, I was so worried about him, was he going to die? Was it all my fault? For not protecting him sooner?


	15. Chapter 15: The Truth

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is not mine and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers, I am really sorry I didn't update this earlier but the internet connection randomly died :( So here it is, Jane's nightmare is a bit disturbing and he finally tells her about her mother, yes really I am not lying. Thanks so much to eblonde for reviewing and reading all 14 chapters in one go. Anyway read on...

_I hadn't realized I was asleep until I saw Angela, she stepped up from her casket but she was a corpse. Her head lolled to one side, mouth hanging open and her glazed eyes staring sightless yet accusingly at me. She had a bloody stump for an arm and her skin was rotting away. She was covered in blood and so were my hands._

_"How could you do this Patrick?" her voice was hollow and empty as she spoke, "was I not kind to you? Answer me!"_

_"Y-yes," I muttered, guilt descending like a flock of ravens._

_"So why did you do this to me?" she pointed an acusing finger at me, "why Patrick? And why do you lie to my daughter?"_

_"I-I er..."_

_"How could you kill me Patrick?" yelled another voice I recognized. Chris. He limped over to his mother, his body a mangled mess._

_"You killed my son too. What sort of sick sadist are you?" Angela demanded as she bent to comfort her son as heart wrenching sobs escaped his body._

_"I-I tried Chris, I tried-" I began as tears fell from my eyes._

_"You didn't try hard enough!" Anglela screeched, her shrill voice piercing my flesh like a knife as I continued to cry._

_"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"_

_"What have you done Patrick?" said a calm voice. I spun to see my mother standing there, she looked almost angelic standing there in the darkness. Her blond hair was radient and she seemed to positively glow, but she wasn't smiling as she approached me._

_"Mommy?" I whispered._

_"We were happy before you were born Patrick. Why does death follow you like a shadow? Why do you kill the people whp care about you?" she said firmly, locking her eyes with mine._

_"But Mom, I didn't mean-"_

_"You are no son of mine," she said simply and I broke down in tears._

_"Leave him Mariana," Angela's head snapped up as she spoke, "before he murders anyone else," Chris nodded in agreement wiping away his tears. Then they all turned and walked away._

_"NO! Wait, come back!" I screamed after them, they either didn't hear me or ignored me as they continued to walk away and my legs seemed incapable of following them, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Come back, I'm sorry! I' sorry!" I screamed and screamed through my tears but they continued to ignore me, I screamed and screamed until my voice was hoarse but they didn't hear me..._

"Patrick! Patrick! Wake up!" yelled Teresa as she shook me awake.

"I'm awake!" I moaned and she released me. I let out a relieved breath, grateful to be woken from my nightmare, on the other hand however my injured shoulder now hurt more.

"Bloody kids yelling," Dan muttered, "I'm going outside for some air," and with that he upped and left.

"It's not your fault Patrick," Teresa said and looked at her in puzzlement, "if anything you were the one who saved him," it occured to me that she was talking about Chris. I had to tell her the truth. Now.

"Teresa I have to tell you something, it's about your mother," as I spoke the words a part of mind began telling me to stop but I ignored it.

"What?" she asked nervously, now it was her turn to look puzzled.

I took a deep breath and I told her. I told her everything. She listened in silence as did Matt and James until I was finished, they sat there in stunned silence.

"You killed my mother!" yelled Matt, his dark eyes silently seething like his father's.

"How could you?" demanded James, his emerald eyes frozen in hatred.

"I'm sorry," I managed to mumble as I hung my head guiltily.

"I wish you were dead!" spat Matt acidly. Right then I wished I was dead too.

James and Matt stood up and went over to the seats on the opposite side of the room. Teresa hadn't said anything, she was still staring at me in total disbelief. Slowly she moved over to sit with her brothers.

"Hello Pat," my Dad grinned happily as he sat beside me in Teresa's seat, "so that's why you've been acting so weird about Annika, very sneaky of you Pat. I'm impressed."

"Angela! Her name was Angela," he slapped me across the face as I said her name. I wondered why I even bothered. Whatever I did I screwed up at.

"I don't care what her bloody name is! How many times to I have to tell you?!" he asked me angrily before looking around panicked to see if anyone had seen or heard him. The reception was deserted except for Teresa, James and Matt. At that moment I felt so low I didn't care that they'd seen.

"Alex!" cried his girlfriend happily as she came from around the corner, my Dad's smiled returned as he approached her and kissed her passionately. He whispered something in her ear and she giggled.

"Stay here Pat, I'll be back sooner or later!" he waved at me as he and his girlfriend left the building.

I drooped my head feeling defeated as I let my injured hand fall open. It looked as disgusting as ever, it was still oozing and it still reeked and it was still throbbing agonizingly painfully. I deserve it, I told myself angrily, I deserve it.

"Your hand looks really bad Patrick. You should get someone to look at it," I closed my palm at Teresa's words looking up surprised to see her standing there, her brother's were nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be fine. Where's James and Matt?" I asked trying to change the subject while still half dazed by the fact she was actually talking to me.

"They went to the little boy's room," her tone was neutral as she turned her beautiful green eyes on me, "I know why you don't want to see a doctor. He beat you didn't it? For going to her funeral, and the doctor's will find the bruises," she continued evenly, her face unreadable. I said nothing, I had no desire to lie any more than I wanted to admit it. "Did our friendship mean anything to you? Or was it just away to sooth your conscience?"

"Of course it meant something, you're the best friend I've ever had!" I answered finding my voice. I saw unshed tears welling in her eyes, mirroring my own eyes.

Teresa said nothing though as she went back to her seat, I felt like I should say something but I was afraid to speak least I find what remained of stomach contents spilled on the floor. Her brothers soon returned to sit with her and we all sat in silence...


	16. Chapter 16: Hospital

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Couldn't sleep again so here you go! Next chapter is done, quite a bit of dialogue but don't worry Chris is actually alive :) Thank you so much to jisbon-sessed, Sophie Fatale, rigspeltforeverxx and Dr Kevorkian for your reviews :) Read on...

I stared at the floor. It was an interesting floor. It was white with an intricate pattern of spirals and swirls of cream sprinkled with a few blue specks. I wished I was the floor, it didn't have to worry about anything, it didn't have to live with all this guilt and misery, it didn't even have to think.

I sighed miserably casting my gaze around the empty room, Teresa, James and Matt still sat stiffly yet silently in the far corner. My Dad was still engaged with his girlfriend, the doctor still hadn't returned with news of Chris and Dan... he wasn't back yet and no idea where he was, and to be honest I didn't even care.

The door suddenly swung open and the cop entered, the same one I'd met twice previously. _Why do I have the most horrible feeling he's here to interview us?_ He saw us and approached. _Why did I always have to be right?_

"Goodmorning kids," he announced awkwardly, "I'm here to talk to you about the attack on your brother. Where is your father?" he continued studying each of us in turn, we only shrugged. I grimaced as I did so, it just made my shoulder hurt more. I deserve it, I told myself icily. "Okay... well were is your mother?"

"She's dead," snapped Matt bitterly, giving me a harsh look.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't know," muttered the cop awkwardly, "well... I still have to interview you."

"Why?" asked James tiredly.

"Because we need to catch this guy," explained the cop, he was lying I realized, he needed to do something impressive for a promotion...? No a transfer, he wants to join the CBI or FBI or some other federal place and thinks this'll look good on his record. That really irked me for some reason.

"You're lying," I found myself saying, "you just need this to look good on your record so you can be transfered to some kind of federal operation," he looked at me stunned.

"He's psychic," spat Matt acidly, "bet you didn't see this coming, did you?" he sneered the words coldly and I just hung my head again.

"I want to assure you kids that just because I want to join the CBI-" a twisted bitter smile formed on my lips, yep I'd been right, "-doesn't mean I'm not gonna find the person who did this."

Good luck my mind wished sarcastically, cops were idiots, if he was paying any attention at all he'd realize who the culprit was, he'd realize it was Dan, he'd realize what a monster he was and he'd be able to take Teresa and her brothers into care before he killed them, assuming Chris wasn't already dead. If I was a cop I'd be so much better at it than him... whatever his name was.

"Do you have a name or do we just call you cop?" I spoke the words bluntly and bitterly but my mind refused to care.

"Err... Virgil Minelli," he answered slowly taken aback by my rudeness, "you really should learn to respect your elders, you know that Lisbon?"

"He's not called Lisbon!" Matt snapped violently, "he's not our brother, he's nothing to us," I looked up as he spoke seeing the harshness in his eyes, James looked defeated and Teresa wouldn't even look at me. That cut like a knife.

"Lisbon?" asked a female voice, it was the doctor.

"How's Chris? Is he okay? Please tell me he's alive?" I demanded standing up and spinning to face her, bad idea, I thought as my stomach began churning again.

"He's in pretty bad shape... but he's alive and he should recover. Children are quite resiliant. Where did Mr Lisbon and who are you?" she directe the last at Minelli.

"Virgil Minelli, I'm with the police. Investigating the attack," he looked serious as he held out his hand for her to shake.

"Dr Carol Cullen," she said as she shook hands.

"Can we see him?" Teresa spoke for the first time as she walked over to stand beside me followed by Matt and James.

"Well... err... okay," Dr Cullen replied as she led us to the children's ward. I almost gasped when I saw him. His tiny body was curled up in the bed, only his bandaged, bruised head was visible, he looked groggily at us tried to smile.

"H-hi guys," he whispered quietly as we approached the bed.

"Hi Chris," Teresa said gently as she sat on the bed beside him, I remained by the door as they others crowded around the bed.

"I'll be back in a minute, " Dr Cullen said seriously, she was probably needed to talk to Minelli about Chris' injuries.

"How you feeling Chris?" Teresa asked forcing a smile.

"Not that good really," he answered, I could see him fighting tears, "is Dad here? I'm scared of him," his voice was unusally quiet and he looked terrified as he turned his head to look at her, the right side of his face had a rectangulare patch of burned and bruised skin.

"Don't worry about him, he's not gonna hurt you in a hospital," Teresa told him sweetly before her expression became serious, "when they ask you what happened... just say you don't remember okay?"

"Why?" he seemed dumbfounded, "I do remember, I was so scared Tessie," tears leaked from his eyes, "I was so scared I thought I was going to die."

"It's okay," Teresa told him soothingly, "he's not going to do that again and as to lying... well unless you want to be taken away... we can never tell."

"I hope your happy," I'd been so busy studying Chris I hadn't noticed Matt coming to stand beside me, "this is all your fault Patrick, if you hadn't murdered our Mom than Dad wouldn't be like this. He wouldn't hit us, he wouldn't attack Chris like that," his quiet words were filled with venom as he spoke, "I hope your Dad is mad at you, I hope he hits you and I hope it hurts. This is all your fault."

I felt so guilty, I really wished Matt would stop rubbing it in. I felt bad enough already, I deserved it though. My legs felt weak again and I slumped onto the chair beside me, my Dad really would be mad if I passed out in the hospital.

"Are you okay Patrick?" Chris asked concerned from the bed.

"Forget him Chris," said James sternly.

"Why?"

"Why?!" demaned Matt furiously, "he killed out Mom Chris, everything is his fault."

"But I-"

I didn't hear the rest of Chris' sentance as my mind descended into darkness and everything went black...


	17. Chapter 17: Drifting

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Here's the next chapter, it's pretty intense, slightly disturbing and abstract but it's like what happens when you drift in and out of consciousness but aren't properly awake. Thanks so much to Sophie Fatale, jisbon-sessed and Dr Kevorkian for reviewing, hope you like it...

I felt my head collide with the cold hard floor. I didn't bother to get up, I couldn't, I couldn't do anything...

*****

"Hey Patrick," a voice echoed around me but my eyes refused to open, "you have to get better Patrick, please don't die," my mind struggled to place the distorted voice with a name... Chris? I didn't know...

*****

"Can I interview him yet?" asked a gruff voice.

"He's unconcious, what do you think?" came a sarcastic reply.

"Any idea when he'll wake up?" the first voice inquired.

"Nope. But when he does I'm gonna have to talk to him about those bruises," the second voice sounded saddened.

"Aren't they just from the attack?" the first voice was surprised.

"No they're older. I'm pretty sure it's the father, bastard hasn't been to see him his son since he was admitted," the second voice answered bitterly.

I part of mind cried out in panic at the conversation taking place but another part dragged me back to sleep...

*****

"If you die Patrick, I'm gonna avenge you," the distorted voice sounded cruel and icy, "I'll make the Lisbons tell me who did this to you and then I'll gut them like fish. I'll make them sorry and then I'll make them smile..."

*****

"Visiting him again?" asked the second voice from before.

"No! I'm just lost..." a new voice muttered lamely. The voice sounded so familiar... my numb mind groped for an answer but didn't reach one.

"You sure do get lost alot," the second voice seemed amused by this.

"Just tell me he'll be okay," the new voice pleaded sounding so desperate, but who was she?! A name, a name, what was her name? I continued to reach for an answer... Teresa!

"I don't know, I just don't know..."

*****

"I'm so sorry, I must have the wrong room," exclaimed a voice... Teresa.

"You might wanna stay kid. He could be dead by tommorrow," said another gruff voice... my Dad?

"Why do you think he might be dead by tommorrow?" asked Teresa quietly.

"The doctor called me today, the one woth the nice rack and she told me she doesn't think gonna make it," my Dad responded, his voice sounded almost defeated.

"Why?" I barely heard her answer.

"He's not responding well to the medication, if he doesn't soon then he will die," blunt, now I was certain it was my Dad. Wait, did he just say I was going to die? Panic welled inside me but my mind quelled it, _you deserve it remember? Everything is your fault._

"But..." spluttered Teresa shocked.

"I bet you're happy you dumb bitch!" he snarled at her, I wanted to tell him to leave her alone but I couldn't.

"Why would I be happy? He's dying..." I could almost see the tears falling from her face.

"Because it's your fault!" I heard him yell and stamp away, presumably in the direction of Teresa.

"How is this my fault?" she sobbed.

"If he didn't care so much about you, he wouldn't have been there! He wouldn't have tried to save you or your damn brothers, he'd be fine!" his words were cold and harsh, then I heard a slap. No! Don't hurt her, please don't hurt her I begged silently. _It's your fault._

"I'm sorry," Teresa cried harder, I longed to comfort her but I couldn't. It's your fault.

"You're sorry," he jeered cruelly, "good news though kid, your mother will have some company in hell and they can all just rot there forever!"

"My mother didn't go to hell!" gasped Teresa, "and neither will... Patrick."

"Isn't adultery a sin? She had sex with me the night she died and I'm not her husband and Patrick doesn't believe, neither did Mariana so they can all burn there and it's your fault!" he screamed the last line at her and I heard her cry harder, "isn't this what you wanted? You wanted him to die because he blames himself for your mother."

"No!" Teresa cried more forcefully, "I didn't want him to die... please let go, you're hurting me..."

"I don't give a damn! Pat's my only child, the only thing I have left of her-"

"Yeah," Teresa's tone was bitter, "you love him so much you beat him and now he's going to die," I heard what sounded like someone being shoved onto the floor.

"Shut up!" roared my Dad but I could tell he was crying, my mind drifted away...

*****

"Do you want me to go?" I heard Teresa ask.

"No," came the quiet response, "he'd want you to be here... he really loves you you know?"

"Okay," she muttered.

"He looks just like his mother, lying on a hospital bed... dying," I heard my Dad whisper, "he's not fighting hard enough, neither did she..."

"How did she die?" I heard Teresa whisper back, I felt my mind tense, was he going to tell her? He'd never told me.

"We travelled with a carnival, and we were staying in this small town... Mariana... she wanted to explore the town so she left with Pat..." he took a deep breath before continuing, "later I got a call from the hospital... she'd been attacked, raped, mugged... she was just left to die..." I heard him gulp and he replayed the painful memories, "I went straight there and she was weak... very weak... they said she'd lost alot of blood, she just kept asking for Pat and whether he was okay. He was fine, she'd managed to protect him. He was only 18months old... and then..."

"Go on," Teresa urged gently.

"They said without a blood transfusion she'd die... they said her blood type was rare and that they didn't have any in stock because it was such a small town and they couldn't get any in time... they asked if she had any family..."

"And she didn't?" asked Teresa, she sounded genuinely concerned.

"She was abandoned as a baby, grew up in and out of foster homes. Pat was the only flesh and blood she had... I had him tested and he was a match! But she refused, she said she'd rather die than let them hurt him... than risk taking his blood because he was so young... no matter what I said she wouldn't listen! She was so damn stubborn like Pat! And then she died, right before my eyes, she just died... I watched the only woman I've ever loved die... and now I'm gonna lose Pat too..."

I could hear my Dad sobbing, as was Teresa. _It's all your fault..._


	18. Chapter 18: One Week Later

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Here's the next chapter, I don't like it that much, alot of dialogue but I've written it at random intervals at a time because of homework, school and issues with gaining a computer, have I mentioned how much I miss my computer? When you turn it on now it's just a blank screen and it makes this high pitched beeping sound that scares Shadow (my dog) you'd think if my Dad works with computers for a living he'd be able to fix it, wouldn't you? Sorry I'm just rambling, anyway thanks to anyone who's added this to story alerts/favourites and especially to Sophie Fatale, Dr Kevorkian, rigspeltforeverxx and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) hahaha I'm uploading this in school!

My eyes fluttered open reluctantly and I gazed around the room. I was in a hospital, at least I was alive. The offending smell of bleach wafted into my nose and I could hear some machine beeping at me.

I rolled onto my back and sat up, my body still ached slightly and I was far from 100% OK but I felt much better. How much time had passed? I wondered curiously, hours? Days? Weeks? Longer? I was alone in the room, had I dreamt all I'd heard or had it been real? I didn't know.

I fell back onto the soft cushy pillows allowing my eyes to flicker shut. I heard footsteps and my ears pricked up as someone entered the room.

"Morning Patrick," I instantly recognized the voice, Teresa!

"Teresa!" the delighted word escaped my lips before I could stop it while my eyes snapped immediately open to see her standing uncertainly in the doorway. To my surprise she ran over and threw her arms around me.

"Oh Patrick! I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaimed.

"Of course I'm okay," I tried to wave it off and she squeezed me tighter, _did this mean we were still friends?_

"You nearly died... you just nearly died..." she pulled away and wiped her eyes hurridly.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled as she sat on the bed, "how long?" I asked louder, curious as to know how much time had passed. She bit her lip before replying.

"A week."

"A week?!" I gasped in amazement, "how could I have been asleep for a week?"

"It was your hand," Teresa looked sad and guilty as she spoke, "it got infected... you weren't responding to the antibiotics..." she trailed off and her eyes filled with tears, "you nearly died," she said again.

"I'll be fi-"

"Don't say that!" she snapped cutting me off, "you kept saying that and you weren't fine, so don't jinx yourself okay? I can't... I can't deal with losing anyone else right now, Patrick."

"Does this mean we're still friends?" I blurted out anxiously, I felt relieved when she smiled again.

"Of course, you're the best friend I've ever had too," I smiled in return before my expression became serious.

"How's Chris?"

"Great," her smile widened as did my relief, "he's burned pretty bad, broken ribs, arm and alot of bruises but he's alive and he should recover fine," I allowed myself a grin, "he's driving the doctors and nurses mad though," she laughed and I noticed how tired she looked.

"I'm glad," I replied, genuinely pleased he was okay.

"You saved his life Patrick."

"And now he hates me," I muttered as I remembered Matt's reaction.

"No he doesn't," Teresa explained tersely, "he doesn't blame you, neither do James and I. The more I think about it, the more I realize it wasn't your fault," she honestly believed that, pity I didn't. At least there wasn't this dark secret hanging in the air between us anymore.

"And Matt?"

"Err... he still has issues with it but I'm sure he'll come around," she answered brightly and I smiled at her optimism, extrememly glad she was my friend.

"Hey Tessa, aren't you coming to see...?" James said from the doorway but trailed off when he saw me and smiled, "Patrick's alive! That is the best news I've heard all day, seriously I've gotta do a science fair project!"

"Good to see you to James," I returned his smile as did Teresa.

"Isn't Patrick dead yet?" moaned Matt as he joined James in the doorway.

"That's not nice Matt," scolded Teresa scowling.

"Well if your done visiting the murderer, I am going to visit my actual family," Matt snarled anrgily.

"What actual family?" asked Chris as he joined his brothers in the doorway, I was pleased to see him. He was wearing a hospital gown and he had a nasty assortment of bruises on his face, his arm was in a sling while his other arm was holding a half eaten popsicle.

"You're not supposed to be out of bed!" snapped Teresa half heartedly.

"Where'd you get the popsicle?" added James curiously.

"I'm just here to visit Patrick," he answered honestly taking a lick of the popsicle, "he is... awake!"Chris grinned from ear to ear as he noticed me and ran over and climbed onto the bed before throwing his arms around me, "Patrick! I am so glad you're okay, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too Chris," I said slowly, not sure what else to say. He pulled out of the embrace and settled down beside Teresa, resuming the task of eating the popsicle.

"I visitited you most days so you wouldn't get lonely," Chris told me cheerfully as James and Matt came over to stand beside the bed, "you must have been really tired to be asleep for a whole week! Imagine a whole entire week!" he seemed amazed by this. I heard footsteps and saw Dr Cullen walking briskly into the room with a frown.

"What are you doing out of bed again Chris? And where did you get that popsicle?"

"I came to visit Patrick he's awake," Chris explained to her innocently, she looked pleased as she noticed me awake.

"That's great, but you should still be in bed," she answered sweetly, "now can you please take your brother back to bed?" she asked of Teresa.

"Okay," Teresa replied reluctantly, "I'll see you later Patrick."

"See you later," I mirrored as the Lisbons left hesitantly, except Matt who practically ran to the door. He was the most angry about Angela's death and wanted someone to blame. Distantly I wondered if it'd been true what I'd heard about my own mother.

"How are you feeling Patrick?" she asked kindly, instantly softening her tone.

"Better than before," I answered torpidly, she nodded.

"Patrick," she said gently as she sat on the bed, great, I thought miserably, she was going to ask me about those bruises, "when I examined you, we found some bruises. Old bruises, that weren't from the attack. Can you explain them?" she looked at me with pitiful eyes.

"Well... I did fall down the stairs a few days ago," I muttered vaguely.

"Patrick, you do know that if anyone hurts you it's not okay right? And it's not your fault, no matter what your Daddy says," she looked at me desperate for my answer.

"I don't know, I'm not supposed to say," I mumbled feebly.

"It's okay Patrick, you can tell me," she looked at me pleadingly with a half surpressed smile, she really thought I was going to tell her.

"I got beat up in school," I instantly hung my head glumly and looked ashamed.

"In school?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, please don't tell anyone else everyone will think I'm a loser," I begged her looking up again, I successfully surpressed a smile. She was buying this.

"I err... I won't..." she stood up abruptly, "I've got other stuff to do and the police will need to talk to you soon, okay?" without waiting for a reply she left the room.

I smiled inwardly, crisis averted. I was so brilliant at this, my Dad would be pleased for once...


	19. Chapter 19: Cops and Cookies

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Here's the next chapter, thanks to jisbon-sessed and someone for reviewing, you didn't leave a name. But thanks anyway for the reivews, enjoy!

"Patrick Jane?" asked a voice and I came instantly awake, it was Minelli.

"Yeah?" I muttered sleepily.

"I'm here to interview you about the attack," he explained.

"Oh," I said sitting up more, "shouldn't my Dad be here?"

"Only suspects need parents present, victims don't and you're a victim," I hated the way he talked to me like I was a baby, he really wasn't used to talking to kids.

"I don't really remember what he looked like, it was dark," I shrugged it off as the attack flashed through my mind.

I hated Dan, if I wasn't so paranoid about social services then I'd tell him about Dan but my Dad had told me all these horrible things about foster homes, things that had happened to my Mom, it was the only time he ever talked about her, to tell me how horrible social services had treated her. And look how messed up John was, maybe that was partially do to with social services. I pushed him out of mind as Minelli began speaking again, asking me about details. I kept my answers as short and vague as possible. He bought it though.

"Now there's one more thing I have to talk to you about," great(!) now he was going to ask me about the bruises, "you had some unexplained bruises, old injuries... is it true you got those from school bullies?"

"Yes," I bowed my head as if I was ashamed.

"Really?" he asked, I sighed inwardly, he wasn't buying this. I wondered why, Dr Cullen had believed me.

"Yes," I said again.

"Because I have a witness that saw your Dad slap you," Minelli continued looking grave.

"But that's impossible!" I protested looking up, "my Dad never slapped me, and he never hit me."

"The witness said he did," Minelli pointed out studying my reaction.

"Maybe the witness is lying."

"Why would someone lie about something like that?"

"I don't know."

We sat studying each other for awhile before Minelli left. The witness mustn't be very reliable. A thought suddenly struck me, I bet it was Matt, he's seen and he was mad at me. I sighed and settled back into my bed. I'd actually been sleeping peacefully for once, didn't anyone realize how hard that had become? I guessed it was just another thing I screwed up.

"Hey Pat," my Dad said smiling as he approached me, I returned his smile, pleased he wasn't mad at me. For once.

"Hey Dad."

"They say you can go home tomorrow," he told me brightly as he sat down on the bed.

"That's good," I agreed readily, hospitals were not my cup of tea. Yuck, tea. Who actually likes that stuff?

"I'm glad you're okay Pat," he whispered gently. My smile widened, he did actually love me.

He stayed awhile before leaving and promising to pick me up tomorrow. Usually you took his promises with a pinch of salt but he wasn't lying this time, he hated hospitals more than I did, again I wondered if the conversations I'd heard were real. I slowly slipped into sleep again...

*****

"Are you awake Patrick?" I heard someone yell excitedly. My eyes shot open and I saw Grace, Wayne and Teresa standing there.

"He is now!" snapped Grace giving him a half-hearted scowl.

"Hey guys," I smiled sitting up as they walked over to the bed.

"We just thought we'd come say hi since your awake now," Wayne grinned excitedly, "you were asleep for a whole week!"

"Do you wanna cookie?" Grace asked offered me a nearly empty tin of cookies, I took one and wolfed it down, it was good. My Dad hardly ever bought cookies.

"Can I have one?" blurted Wayne looking hungrily at the cookies.

"No," Grace replied offering one to Teresa.

"Why not?"

"You've had like half the cookies already!" she protested as Teresa and I surpressed laughter.

"But I'm still hungry and they're good cookies!" he whined giving Grace a puppy dog look.

"Okay one, but it's your last one," Grace said firmly as a delighted Wayne hungrily scoffed the cookie.

"Thank you," he muttered as Grace put away the cookies in her bag, "they're good cookies, your Mom is such a great cook."

"Not as good as Patrick!" squealed a small voice as Chris ran in and jumped onto the bed.

"You're supposed to be in bed!" Teresa complained mildly as Grace and Wayne laughed. I smiled, it was good to have friends...


	20. Chapter 20: Returning to Normal

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this. Seriously I don't even have the DVD :(

**Author's Note: **Thanks to jisbon-sessed and Sophie Fatale for reviewing. Can you believe this is 20 chapters long?! It was only supposed to be a few chapters long and it has just completely taken on a life of its own! Plenty of life still left in it though ;) Enjoy the chapter...

"But I don't like staying in bed!" Chris moaned, "bed is boring. Unless you jump on them but the nurse told me not to else I'd break it."

"Tough!" Teresa scolded. Chris looked at her innocently and her face softened, "fine you can stay in here for a little while but then straight back to bed. Do you understand?"

Chris nodded vigourously and settled comfortably onto the bed. Teresa rolled her eyes at him as Grace and Wayne stopped laughing.

"You remind me of my little sister, little sisters are so annoying," complained Wayne.

"I love my little sister," added Grace.

"So do I!" answered Wayne quickly, "I just meant... that when she was a baby she was annoying but not now. Now I love her so much because little sisters totally rock!"

I smiled at his reply, he was clearly just saying that to make Grace like him. She noticed too and giggled at him.

"How's school?" I asked changing the subject.

"Same old, same old," Wayne replied before changing his mind, "actually there have been some changes."

"Like Mr Simmons," offered Grace.

"Yeah, he used to hate you and now he doesn't."

"And Sam Bosco," prompted Grace.

"Yeah, ever since that serial killer attacked he's been nicer to everyone," Wayne continued.

"And Red John."

"He's been acting weird. Well weirder than usual, like psycho weirder," Wayne said seriously, "he keeps asking for information on who attacked you and saying he'll kill them."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," I muttered defensively, trying not to worry about the mental health of my potentially homicidal freind.

"Believe me Patrick, he did," Teresa told me.

Grace and Wayne stayed for awhile chatting about trivial things before she said she was expected home soon. Wayne immediately offered to walk her home and she accepted. Leaving just Teresa, Chris and I.

"Where are Matt and James?" I asked, suddenly curious to their whereabouts.

"Matt's got detention and James went to a friends house," Teresa explained simply.

"Why'd Matt get dention?"

"Firstly its detention, d-e-t-e-n-t-i-o-n, not dention and secondly it was for fighting another kid," Teresa answered swiftly.

"Why'd they fight?"

Teresa just shrugged in answer to my question. They didn't stay long after that, James and Matt arrived, Matt insisting Chris return to bed or he'd call the nurse. Teresa and Chris reluctantly dragged themselves away and I was left alone to ponder my thoughts.

I still felt like I was missing something. Something important to do with the murders and John. My mind couldn't think of an answer and after an hour of wrestling my brain I gave up and surrendered to sleep...

*****

My Dad stuck true to his word about picking me up the next day. He even took me to McDonalds for breakfast before taking me home. I knew his kindness wouldn't last but it was still nice.

We spend the day watching TV and for once he was quiet. He ordered some chinese food for dinner before sending me to bed. It was his idea of being kind and I had no desire to piss him off.

*****

I got up bright and early the next day. My bandaged hand was quite sore but it was beareble and still useable. As usual my Dad wasn't up so I got myself some ceral before heading off to school. If my calculations were correct, then it was a Wednesday.

"Hi Patrick!" called a voice I recognized, John. He ran over and hugged me.

"Hi John," I answered as we began the journey.

"I was worried about you Patrick, I even went to see you," he announced.

"That was nice of you," I replied.

"Who attacked you?" he demanded angrily.

"I don't know," I lied shrugging.

"No one knows! I think the Lisbons lie when they say they don't know, I was going to... never mind. But if you do ever die I will avenge you Patrick, I will kill them. I will kill them all."

He spoke the last few lines with such a determined conviction, it worried me. Teresa was right, he meant it. In a way I was I was touched, but mostly I was worried.

"It's interesting though Patrick. Sam lost most of his family and it made him a better person. They say you never realize what you have until you lose it. It's true, and it makes you a better person," John continued in morbid fascination.

"Not all the time," I pointed out. It was true, look at Dan, losing his wife made him a bastard.

"No not all the time. But most times, so killing is actually good. The murderer did Sam a favour, he was a thug and now he wants to be a cop," John turned and smiled at me with an icy coldness in his eyes, "I like killing things."

"John," I said seriously as the pieces fell into place, "did you kill Sam's family?"

Before John could reply Teresa ran over to join us and I realized we were at the school.

"Morning Patrick, and Red John- I mean John," Teresa corrected herself smiling.

The bell rang out across the yard. Time for school...


	21. Chapter 21: Changing Sides

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and make no money from this.

**Author's Note: **Sort of more friendship in this chapter, and Cho... well just read it and see :) thanks so much to Habeous Corpus and jisbon-sessed for reviewing.

I decided I'd worry about John later as I went eagerly into my first class, math and was pleased I could still write with my right hand, after that I had english and then recess. I went outside into the bright sunshine where I found Mick blocking my path.

"You're in our way Mick, move it," snapped Teresa, "unless you want another kick."

"Maybe you should save your kicks to protect your brothers," smirked Mick and his gang laughed, except the asian kid.

"Why aren't you laughing Cho?" said one of Mick's gang.

"I... erm didn't think it was funny," Cho muttered.

"Why not?" demanded Mick.

"Because... it's just not nice," shrugged Cho shifting uncomfortably.

"Do you want to be cool or not Iceman?" demanded Mick more forcefully turning on Cho.

"I... no," said Cho more firmly.

"No?"

"If being cool means being a total jerk than no, I don't want to be cool," Cho sounded much more sure of himself now.

"So you're with them? Teresa and Jane?" Mick sounded dumbfounded.

"I guess I am," Cho moved to stand beside us as he spoke, Mick just stood there in shock.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tounge?" mocked John joining us.

"Just shut up Red John!" snapped Mick, "you'll regret this," he added darkly before moving away with his gang.

"Bring it on!" John called after them, "I'd like to see you try you coward!"

"Wha dud I muss?" mumbled Wayne, as he and Grace approached us, his mouth full of apple.

"I'm sorry," Cho said hanging his head, "I've been so horrible, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Teresa smiled at him, "I forgive you. Everybody this is Kimball Cho."

"Hi," we all muttered before the bell rang. We went back into class and I was impressed with Mr Simmons' transformation, he seemed delighted to see me and gave me no homework since I'd been ill. Clearly he was doing better with his wife.

Eventually it was lunch and Teresa and I took our usual table, Grace, Wayne, Kimball and John all joined us. I'd never felt so popular before, even if I didn't know Kimball and John was... I hoped I was wrong about him, I didn't want my friend to be a serial killer. I decided I'd ask him when he joined me on the walk to school tomorrow.

"How about after school you guys all come over to my place to hang out?" Wayne offered excitedly, "my little sister Erin is having friends over so my Mom said I could have friends over too."

"I'd love to!" exclaimed Grace happily.

"Sure," muttered Kimball.

"Okay," agreed John looking doubtful, "if you're being serious and not joking that is."

"Of course I'm serious, any friend of Patricks... is still invited to my house," Wayne answered cautiously, suspicious of the strange boy, "how about you two?" he directed this at me and Teresa.

"Well... I can't really," said Teresa eventually.

"Why not?" asked Grace.

"My brothers. I have to walk them home," Teresa explained regretfully.

"They can come too," Wayne offered.

"Really?"

"My Mom won't mind," Wayne waved it off, "and you Patrick?"

"Err... yea I guess," I wasn't really sure if my Dad would agree but then again he never minded when I went to Teresa's.

"Great!" beamed Wayne happily...

*****

Aftwe school we all went with Teresa to pick her brothers up from school as Chris had been back in school today too, on account of it not being safe to leave a five year old home alone.

"What are your brothers called?" asked Grace kindly as waited for them to come outside.

"James, he's 10 then there's Matt, he's 7 and Chris is the one with a broken arm, he's 5," Teresa explained as Chris charged towards us beaming.

"Hi Tessie! Hi Patrick! And all of Tessie and Patrick's friends," his smile faded slightly as looked at us curiously.

"We're all going over to my friend Wayne's house today," Teresa told him and his smile returned.

He plunged into detail about everything that had happened to him in school and was still talking when James and Matt joined us, in fact Chris was still talking as we followed Wayne to his house. I found myself memorizing the route automatically.

We arrived at Wayne's red brick house and were greeted by a young slender woman with black hair. I was surprised by her youth as Wayne introduced her as his mother, then again my Mom was only 19 when she died.

We went inside the house and found a large group of girl's, they looked about 6, having a tea party in the family room. One of them ran forward and kissed Wayne sloppily on the cheek, obviously his sister. Her brown hair was the same shade as his and he could see the resembelance between them. Wayne went scarlett as she kissed.

"Erin, not in front of guests," he hissed at her.

"Oh, she is so sweet," giggled Grace and he blushed harder.

"Aren't you gonna intoduce your friends hon?" asked his mother giving us a kind smile.

"The beautiful red head is girlfriend Grace," he indicated Grace, "the asian one is Kimball, the other girl is Teresa, the dark haired boy is Red John- I mean John and the blond one is Patrick, he's psychic. The others are Teresa's brothers."

"Pleased to meet you all, you can call me Alexa or Mrs Rigsby," she smiled warmly at us, "whatever you prefer."

"And these are my friends," announced Erin pointing the girls at the tea party, "Maggie, Daisy, Debbie, Frieda and Emily. Wanna come play tea parties with us?"

"No, we've got big kid stuff to do," Wayne respnded swiftly.

"Yeah, tea parties are for girls!" agreed Chris.

"But Wayne plays it with me when-" Erin stopped when Wayne waved at her to shut up. We giggled slightly as Wayne went redder, except John and Matt. John just stood there and Matt was glaring ar me still.

"I'm gonna do my homework," sighed James softly, "is that okay?"

"It's fine," said Alexa, "how nice of you to want to do your homework."

"I don't want to, but it's better than working on my sciene fair project," James muttered as he went over to the table.

"I'm cooking some lamb for dinner, is that okay with all you kids?" asked Alexa and we all agreed it was fine.

"Why don't you and Matt go watch some TV?" offered Wayne waving at the family room. Matt imediately hurried off there and Chris reluctantly followed. Wayne led us upstairs into his room...


	22. Chapter 22: The Rigsby House

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **I know it seems like a pretty random chapter but it'll make more sense in future chapters. Yes this does actually have a plot, sort of, I'm not making it up completely as I go along. Meant to update this this morning but I forgot, sorry! Anyway thanks so much to jisbon-sessed for reviewing. Read on...

"Well, this is my room," Wayne announced as he proudly led us into room, it was pretty much as I'd expected his room to be. Well except it was clean and tidy, but that was probably because his Mom had made him clean it before having us over.

I felt a pang of sadness though as sat around the room, his room was so warm and lived in whereas mine... I could fit everything I owned into a single rucksack, as I did whenever we moved. With Wayne you'd need a few suitcases, big ones.

We chatted away for awhile as we worked on some homework, I found I was enjoying myself however. Being surrounded by friends in a relaxed environment, it also gave me the oppurtunity to observe them more. I know it sounds cruel but I couldn't help it, I'd been taught to observe since before I could talk.

"Mind if I use your bathroom?" asked Teresa politely, "I need to pee."

"I'll take you," I offered standing up.

"How do you know where it is?" Kimball wondered aloud as he frowned at me.

"He's psychic, remember?" grinned Wayne.

I led her downstairs to where I'd noticed the bathroom earlier. I smelt the lamb cooking from the kitchen and found myself drawn to it. I was hungry, I realized as I entered the kitchen. Alexa was humming as she chopped some vegtables while Matt was talking to a tall black haired boy.

"Hey," I muttered as Matt and the boy turned to look at me. Well teen, high school student, an older brother if Wayne's...?

"Hi, I'm Gareth," he said with a warm smile, he looked the most like his mother out of the Rigsby children, he even had her slender frame, "you must be one of Wayne's friends."

"He's Patrick Jane," Matt spat glaring at me.

"Nice to meet you Patrick," Gareth continued before turning to his mother, "is Dad joining us for dinner?"

"If he can drag himself away from that biker bar," Alexa sounded resentful as she spoke.

"Wayne's Dad's a biker," I said half to myself, it did explain alot. Wayne probably didn't get on well with him.

"Unfortunately," sighed Gareth, "spends all his time with them or at his bar playing poker."

"Who's playing poker?" asked Teresa joining us.

"My Dad," answered Gareth giving her a smile.

"And you are...?"

"Gareth, Wayne's older brother. He didn't tell me his girlfriend was pretty," Gareth said causing her to blush.

"I'm not Wayne's girlfriend, Grace is," Teresa replied.

"Oh," Gareth flashed her an apologetic smile, "if you were a little bit oder than I'd ask you to be mine."

Teresa blushed harder and I felt... jealous. I shouldn't feel jealous! But I did, I wondered why. We were just friends, best friends not romantic friends. I shouldn't feel jealous when someone else was complimenting her.

"That lamb smells nice, did you know that if you sprinke some herbs in the water if you boil it then it increases the flavour?" I said nervously changing the subject.

"You are so right," Alexa beamed at me, "did your Mom teach you to cook?"

"Err... no, she's dead. Died when I was a baby," I muttered mournfully.

"Your Dad?"

"His Dad's a loser bum," Matt snorted, "did you know he hit Patrick in the hospital?"

"No he didn't!" I gasped nervously feeling Gareth and Alexa's concerned eyes looking at me.

"Yeah Matt, you shouldn't tell lies," chimed Teresa, I felt relieved she was backing me up.

"I'm not lying!" he snapped before storming off to sulk.

"Ignore him, he's just upset because of Mom..." Teresa said sadly as I felt the familiar stab of guilt twist in my gut and the conversation dwindled.

"So who did teach you to cook?" asked Gareth.

"Madam Bella," I answered truthfully.

My Dad was never good at feeding me and after I passed out during a performance from lack of food, she'd started teaching me to feed myself. I suddenly missed her, and Cragen and the other carnival folk. They'd always been good to me, cheered me up when my Dad had... punished me. They'd been fond of me as I was the only child there, except Cragen's daughter Pansy but she was just moody and not very likeable.

"Who's Madam Bella?" Teresa's voice broke me out of my thoughts.

"She's the fortune teller on Cragen's travelling carnival. We use to live there, we still do on summer vacation," I answered feeling nostalgic.

"You're a carny?" grinned Wayne as he too joined us in the kitchen.

"Sort of... what're you doing down here?" I inquired curiously.

"Finding my friends," Wayne said as he sniffed the air, "that smells nice Mom! When will it be ready?"

"Soon," Alexa answered with a smile.

"Is Dad joining us?" Wayne's voice sounded hopeful but his face looked the opposite.

"If he can drag himself away from that bar," sighed Gareth again.

"Why he bothers playing poker anyway, I dunno," Wayne shrugged mournfully.

"Poker's easy," I muttered and was surprised when they all stare intently at me, "what? It is, my Dad taught me to play and it's easy."

That was true, observation and having a memory palace really paid off in poker. Maybe with a slight of hand too. Dad had spent ages teaching me until I could win pretty much every game I played, easy money, he always said. It was actually easier than playing dice, it had taken hours upon hours of dice throwing until I was able to throw whatever I wanted to roll.

"What does your Dad do for a living Patrick?" inquired Alexa caustiously. Thankful I was saved by the oven timer going off, "potatoes are done!"

"Let's go back up to my room," Wayne offered and I gratefully obliged.

Shortly after that dinner was served and we all had to squeeze around the dinner table with loads of random chairs from around the house. I was very scumushed and it was noisy but the food was tasty, it was nice.

Wayne's ellusive biker father didn't turn up, but I got the impression it was a good thing and not a bad thing. After dinner Alexa said it was time for us to home. Wayne offered to walk Grace home, which didn't surprise me, Kimball and John walked off in their own directions while I went with Teresa and her brothers.

Our time was passed listening to Chris chat on about what he's seen on TV today and how nice the food was -but he made sure to emphasize that it wasn't quite as good as mine- and how nice Alexa and Gareth were and how lively their house was.

We reached their neighbourhood and I was surprised to find Sam's house in darkness, there were usually lights on at this time. I even said as much and Teresa informed me they'd moved house. I wasn't surprised really and it got me wondering about John again. I had to be wrong about him, it was ridiculous surely that he could be a murderer.

I walked them to their door and Matt went moodily into the house, James and Chris waved me goodbye before going in too while Teresa gave me a hug before I left. My thoughts returned to the jealousy I'd felt earlier as I began the journey home.

I arrived home and found my Dad making out with a different woman on the couch. I prominantly ignored him as I crept quietly up into my room and into bed. I was tired but again sleep kept elluding me for ages before I drifted off...


	23. Chapter 23: Red John's Departure

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is definately not mine and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello to all my readers, I am totally on a roll today :) three chapters on this story done in one day, aren't I awesome? I know I should probably be working on my other stuff too but I'm really enjoying writing in first person. Slightly dark as Red John talks to Jane and just a general thanks to all my reviewers, readers and people who added this to story alert/favourite. Enjoy :)

I awoke early as usual, Dad wasn't up as usual, I got my breakfast as usual, then began the journey to school as usual. I prepared myself mentally for John's inevitable appearance and the question I had to ask him about Sam's family. I knew I needed to know the answer yet I didn't want to, maybe because deep down inside I already knew.

"Hey Patrick," John said blandly as he came to walk with me, he seemed unusually melancholy today for some reason, "I'm leaving. This school, this town. I'm leaving."

"Why?" I asked shocked.

"That bitch doesn't want me any more! She said we'd always be a family no matter what and I knew she was lying but I gave her a chance anyway and she blew it," snapped John with a dark anger, "if she wasn't already suffering I'd make her pay for sending me back into care, especially now you're my friend."

"I am so sorry John," I whispered honestly, creepy or not he was still my friend after all. Even if a small part of me was jumping for joy that he was going.

"I know! It's not fair, people Patrick, people are just cruel," his anger faded and he looked suddenly miserable, "parents are supposed to protect their kids, not hurt them, they're not supposed to hit you or come into your room at night... they're not supposed to kill each other either. But they do and it'd not fair!"

"I know," I muttered quietly as John continued his rant.

"But they do anyway, they hurt you and you, everyday, every night and then they hurt the ones you love so you hurt them back Patrick. Except they don't get up. Never," John was speaking so quietly I wasn't sure he realized I was there, "I'm fed up of people hurting me, whether it's cutting you with a knife or keeping you awake every night with the crying. I'm going to hurt them back, I already have."

"Okay," I said slowly, I was seriously worried about his mental health now.

"Have you ever done it Patrick? For once in your life you have the power, the control and you watch the light leave their eyes. They look desperately at you and you make sure they know why, you remind them why and then you bring the blade down and cut away their life..."

John trailed off and stood still before turning to lock eyes with me. I looked into the depths of his dark frosty eyes and I didn't even need to ask, he had killed Sam's family and his own, or at least one of them.

"You're my only friend Patrick and I know. I know your Dad hits you, you try to hide the bruises but you're not the only observant one. Your Dad shouldn't do that to you and no matter what he says you don't deserve it but he does. Kill him Patrick and then you'll know how good it feels," John continued coldly and I was surprised he knew about my Dad.

"I- I can't kill my him John, he's my Dad... killing is wrong," I stuttered nervously.

"How can something so good be wrong? Everyone wants me to smile and killing makes me smile. That's why I drew the smiley face on the wall, so everyone would know how happy taking their lives made me," John smiled at me, "try it Patrick, it'll feel good. So good."

"Hey guys, school's over here," Teresa smiled warmly at me as she jogged over to us.

"Goodbye Patrick, I'll never forget you," John said ignoring Teresa, "think about what I've said. I'd do it myself but I don't want to deprive you of it," with that he turned and walked away.

"What was that all about?" asked Teresa confused.

"He's leaving, going back into care. Moving school," I shrugged shivering despte the heat.

"Oh, come on then," Teresa's smile returned as I followed her into school (the bell had already gone).

I was still thinking about what Red John had said all throughout the day. He was a murderer, my friend was a murderer. It scared me. At least he was gone now, maybe he'd get the help he needed. It was unlikely but I liked the sliver of hope that he wasn't totally lost. I wouldn't tell anyone either. Not even Teresa.

The day passed uneventfully, I was still pleased that I had loads of friends to sit with. I felt like one of those popular kids in the movies I rarely watched, it helped take my mind off my homicidal friend at any rate.

After school I went over to the Lisbon house and made us dinner before hanging out at the house for awhile before I went home. Do some homework then go to bed. I put John behind me and began to enjoy my life. For once I had friends, good friends, especially Teresa, school was good, home was bearable. At the weekends I went between the Lisbon house and my Dad's training.

That was the routine I settled into, until the week before Halloween...


	24. Chapter 24: Halloween Costumes

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to Sophie Fatale for reviewing :) As I mentioned briefly in the last chapter, this has skipped forward in time a few weeks, it was mid September and now its late October about a week before Halloween. Just thought I'd make that clear in case it confuses you, and the costume Chris mentions is actually a real costume by the way.

"I can't believe it's nearly Halloween already!" exclaimed Wayne happily through a mouthful of food, we were sitting at a table in the school cafeteria eating our lunch "what are you guys going as?"

"You're going trick or treating?" Kimball seemed surprised by this.

"You aren't?" Wayne blurted looking equally shocked.

"It's sort of childish, isn't it? We are in middle school now," Kimball explained.

"Of course... but I... have to go with my little sister," Wayne answered slowly then beamed as he realized it was a good excuse, "she's going as a star and I'm going as a werewolf."

"That's pretty neat," Grace gave him a smile, "I'm going with my little brother and sister too."

"Awesome!" Wayne was practically jumping with excitement, "we could all go togehter. That's if you want to..."

"I'd love too!" Grace agreed delightedly, their relationship was really working out, "I've still gotta go find us the costumes, I have a specific list of costumes to get for them. My family really goes all out for Halloween."

"What about you guys?" Wayne asked as their attention returned to us, "care to join us?"

"Sure, why not?" Kimball said turning to Teresa.

"I dunno... costumes are expensive," she muttered, "but I'll try to come, my brothers'll have to come too."

"That's fine!" beamed Wayne, "how about you Patrick?"

I shifted uncomfortably as they eyes turned to me. I'd never gone trick or treating before, my Dad always said I was too young to go alone and he didn't wanna come with me. Eventually I'd just given up.

"My family doesn't really do Halloween," I mumbled pathetically. Or Easter. Or Christmas. My Dad really was lazy.

"Come on Patrick, please?" begged Teresa looking at me pleadingly.

"Yeah the rest of us are going," chimed in Kimball, "even me."

"I'll try..." I said eventually and they all grinned at me...

*****

"So you've really never been trick or treating before?" Teresa asked me later as we waited outside for Teresa's brothers.

"Unfortunately," I sighed.

"Is because you don't believe in god?"

"No, my Dad just can't be bothered," I explained regretully, "plus he thinks it's a waste of time and money."

"What's a waste of time and money?" Chris wondered loudly as he charged over to us, he had just had his cast removed the other day and was recovering well.

"Never mind," Teresa waved it off as James and Matt joined us.

We began the journey to her house while Chris indulged us in everything he'd done at school. Matt still glared at me, he was still mad at me. Teresa was becoming increasingly worried about him, bad grades, fights... he really wasn't coping well with Angela's death.

We arrived at the house and James skulked of miserably to work on his science project, Chris skipped off to play in his room while Matt slumped onto the couch. I went into the kitchen to start dinner, I was making meatloaf today, and Teresa followed offering help. She really was a hopeless cook as we argued daily, she did manage not to burn anything today though.

Chris crept into the kitchen mid-way through the cooking and coughed nervously.

"Tessie...?"

"Yes Chris?" Teresa replied raising an eyebrow at him curiously.

"You know how you have grocery money?" he asked innocently and I grew curious. `Grocery money` was money Teresa... borrowed from her father's wallet for groceries.

"Yes."

"And you know how you save the left over money for emergenceies?"

"Yes."

"Well," Chris came forwards and produced a drawing from behind his back, it was a very detailed drawing of a vampire, "can I have this costume for when we go trick or treating?"

"How much is it?" Teresa asked doubtfully.

"$119.25 but it's the gothic vampire elite collection child costume and it's reduced especially from $122!" Chris explained rapidly.

"$119.25! Chris we can't afford that!" Teresa exclaimed and he looked crestfallen.

"But all the other kids have really awesome costumes and I have to have it or else everyone will call me a baby!" he protested.

"Tough! Chris we just don't have the money, I'm sorry," Teresa told him regretfully.

"What about you Patrick? You have lots of money, you could buy it for me," Chris begged.

"It's my Dad's money Chris, not mine."

"You could still ask h-"

"My Dad won't even buy me any sort of costume, let alone somebody he's never met," I said cutting him off.

Chris looked ready to cry as he silently stalked out. Teresa went off to see if he was alright and I resumed cooking, I felt slightly guilty at Chris wanting the outfit but there was no way she could spend $119.25 on a single costume and my Dad's money was completely out of te question of course. I wasn't allowed any money at all for anything and stealing was not an option, my Dad practically worshipped that money.

I finished the meatloaf and we sat down for dinner, Chris was unusually subdued but he was just sulking. James cleared the table and did the dishes while Teresa and I worked on some history homework and chatted about Halloween costumes. I was going to have to make one myself whereas Teresa was hoping their costumes from last year still fit.

We finished the homework and I decided to leave early to work on costume ideas...


	25. Chapter 25: Storm

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed and rigspeltforeverxx for reviewing :) I agree with you about the costume being so expensive, that's exactly what my Mom said last year and she bought my brother a much cheaper one, also I'm not gonna kill Alex but after you read this chapter you might want me to as Alex beats him, dark but it is an angst for a reason

I got myself up, had breakfast and headed off to school glancing up at the dark mass of storm clouds gathering above me. Frowning at this I arrived at school and joined my friends as we waited for the bell.

They were all talking excitedly about their costumes, in addition to Wayne's werewolf, Grace was going as a witch and Kimball as a frankenstein monster while Teresa as an angel. I just shrugged lamely figuring I'd either buy a cheap mask or throw a sheet over my head.

School passed as usual but I noticed the storm was getting worse outside, by the time school finished it was pelting down rain and the booming sound of thunder was echoing around us. Teresa and I were soaked through the skin as we reached her brothers' elementary school.

Pretty much everyone who normally walked to pick there kids up from school had opted for their cars instead, this was probably wise as flashes of lightening were blazing nearby us. Her brothers hurridly joined us.

"I'm scared!" Chris shouted tearfully above the roaring thunder.

"My house is closer!" I yelled, "we can go there until the storm calms down a bit!"

They bobbed their heads in agreement and we half ran to my house and collapsed through the door drenched and panting. I closed the door and noticed my Dad's car was gone. Probably to a bar, I thought miserably as I went to make some dinner. Matt came in as Teresa went to use the bathroom, he poured himself a drink of milk and left the carton on the counter.

"Can you put it back please?" I asked kindly.

"Can you bring my Mom back please?" he retorted angrily.

"You have to stop this Matt," I said tiredly.

"Stop what?" he sneered.

"Acting like a jerk to everyone, especially the people who care about you," I snapped, "Teresa is really worried about you, she doesn't deserve that. Life is tough, its cruel, its hard but you have to deal with it. Don't push everyone away from you or you'll be as alone as you think you are."

"So?" Matt sounded unsure as he spoke.

"You don't want to be alone to be alone Matt," I whispered quietly and Matt slowly put the milk back before he went back into the family room. I hoped he'd listen.

By the time we'd eaten the soup (we were practically out of food, I'd have to get Dad to go grocery shopping) the storm had died down somewhat. It was still raining slightly but the thunder and lightening had stopped. I offered to walk them home but Teresa said it was pointless as I might get caught by ths storm instead, so I simply waved them goodbye. Chris still seemed quiet which was odd but I supposed with the storm.

I watched some TV before my Dad arrived home, that's when I went upstairs and worked on my homework. I'd just finished when I heard my Dad calling me, and he sounded mad. I nervously went downstairs and saw him standing there with a look of barely controlled rage.

"Do you know what I did when I got home today?" he asked me with a dark quietness.

"Err... no," I muttered anxiously, what had I done now?

"I counted my money. Did you think I wouldn't notice?!" he roared furiously.

"Notice what?"

"Don't play dumb with me Pat! $120 is missing, who do you think took it?" he screamed advancing on me, "Angela's ghost? Willy Wonka? The freakin' boogeyman?"

"I don't know, I didn't take it!" I protested.

Either he wasn't listening or he didn't care as the blows rained down on me. I'd never seen him so mad as I tried desperately to protect my head from the savage beating. For the first time ever I passed out before he got fed up...

*****

I awakened hours later spawled on my bedroom floor. I groaned in agony and rolled onto my stomach as I spat out blood. Shakily I got to my feet and blinked at the sunshine streaming through my window. My whole body ached from head to toe, even my bruises had bruises.

"Pat," my Dad snapped darkly as he peeked into the room, "you still going to school?"

"Yeah," I agreed nervously as I realized I was going to be late. He snorted and slammed the door shut.

I changed my clothes hurridly at the same time cringing from the bruises, my body ached all over. I turned my tired thoughts to who had taken the money, freezing mid may through tying my sneakers. Teresa.

It made sense, she always needed money for groceries and they'd been at the house yesterday. I felt my heartbeat quicken, she knew where the money was as she'd supervised Chris putting it back. No, she wouldn't steal from me... she was my friend, my best friend she wouldn't especially when she knew about my Dad.

I became more worried the more I thought about it. She had to have taken it, but why? Why would she do this to me? Was she in trouble? Was it her Dad? Had something happened? She'd seemed fine earlier. I'd have to ask her. She'd have a good reason, wouldn't she...?


	26. Chapter 26: Old Friends and Old Advice

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) almost finished this chapter last night so it didn't take long to finish this morning, I know I wake up absurdly early even if I stay up really late, and I'm not even tired :) my Mom thinks that's weird. Sorry rambling, enjoy...

"By the way Pat, I already called your school," my Dad informed me as I reached for the door, "I told them you'd be late because you fell down the stairs last night, I wanted you to stay home but you insisted on going. Clear?"

"Clear," I agreed but he stepped in front of me and roughly grabbed my shoulders, I winced painfully, "please don't hit me again."

"You stole $120 from me Pat and I want it back," he snarled cruely tightening his iron grip, "I don't care if you've spent it or if you've lost it, by tomorrow morning you're gonna give me $120, understand?"

"But I-"

"Or else," he whispered looking at me with an icy rage.

"Okay," I muttered and he shoved me onto the floor.

"Good," he hissed before wandering into the family room.

I stood up shakily and concentrated on getting to school, at least the weather seemed nice, I thought trying to think positively. I was failing miserably, the sore bruises kept dragging my mind back to Teresa's theft. Hopefully she hadn't spent the money yet and when I explained she would give it me and tell me the reason why she'd taken it in the first place. I hadn't decided what the reason was but it had to be a good one, she was my best friend. She had to have a good reason.

When I got to my first class (well second techincally, I'd been passed out for that long) with Mr Simmons everyone turned to look at me. I felt myself coloring as I rushed to sit beside Teresa, thankfully Mr Simmons was still grateful for my advice and didn't tell me off.

I was itching to ask Teresa about the money but forced myself to wait, I wouldn't risk asking her until we were alone. I'd ask her on the way home from school or maybe at her house. I was still dying for an answer and I was amazed how normal she seemed, not the type of behaviour you'd expect from a thief.

Recess came quickly and we rushed out into the school yard. The five of us went to stand near the gate as we usually did during recess.

"You look pretty beat up Patrick, what the hell happened to you?" Rigsby wondered as he opened his yogurt.

"It was stupid I tripped and fell down the stairs," I mumbled hanging my head pretending to be ashamed as they giggled. Except Teresa.

"That was pretty dumb," announced a voice I recognized and I turned to see John on the other side of the gate.

"John!" I exclaimed in surprise as my heartbeat quickened, John smiled through the bars.

"What are you doing here?" Grace asked, clearly as surprised as I was.

"I came to wish you a Happy Birthday, you being Patrick's friend and all," John tilted his head curiously to one side, "I can't make Monday so Happy Halloween too."

"My birthdays not till Saturday," Grace pointed out.

"Can't do Saturday either," John said as he reached into his pocket and got out a card saying `Happy Twelveth Birthday.`

"Err... thanks Red Jo- I mean John," Grace mumbled as she took the card carefully, acting like it could be poisoned.

"I wish I was 12," Kimball muttered half to himself, "I won't be 12 till April."

"January," sighed Wayne.

"December 8th," John added.

"Ha!" Teresa beamed, "I was 12 the day before school started, Patrick?"

"What are you losers talking about?" Mick mocked as he and his cronies approached us, "if it isn't little Red John the retard."

"Don't insult him," I snapped, fearful John might kill him if he insulted him.

"What the fuck happened to you Jane?" Mick scowled studying me.

"Yeah," laughed one of his gang, "you look like you got hit by a bus."

"Actually I fell down the stairs," I murmered causing Mick and his gang to explode with laughter.

"You're a total loser Jane," Mick smirked.

"Don't insult my friend or you'll be sorry," John told him darkly.

"What are you gonna do?" Mick continued to mock having no idea what John was capable of.

"You'll see," Red John smiled his twisted smile before turning and walking away. I became suddenly worried, was he going to kill Mick? I'd have to find him later and make sure he didn't.

"Yeah just walk away you yellow bellied coward!" Mick yelled after him before his voice was drowned out by the bell.

The rest of the school day passed uneventfully, if you excluded the worry in my mind. I was seriously regretting getting up this morning, on top of my best friend's potential betrayal, on top my Dad's accusing fists, on top of having to get $120, I now had to stop a murder. This was not how I'd imagined Thursday to be.

School finally finished and I found me and Teresa walking to her brother's elementary school as we always did. I was so engrossed in trying to think of how to talk to her about the money, I didn't notice we when we arrived at the elementary school and her brothers joined us, now I'd have to wait even longer!

Chris still seemed subdued so James took over the conversation, mostly to moan about his science fair project. He finished his rant and we walked in silence, before Teresa spoke.

"You didn't fall down the stairs did you?" she whispered and I stopped in my tracks, "Patrick?"

"What did you expect? My Dad is very protective of his money," I snapped feeling angry she was acting so ignorant. She stood facing me looking surprised, her brothers faces filled with identical expressions as they watched.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, I just... why did you steal from me?"

"I didn't steal from you."

"Look, I'm not mad. Just tell me why and give me the money back," I said trying to surpress the tempest of panicked rage. Why was she lying to me?

"Patrick, I didn't steal anything!" she protested and I felt something in me snap as my Dad's words floated back to me.

_"...Patrick Jane mark my words, playing with fire gets you burned, these people are going to hurt you..."_

"Liar!" I screamed ignoring the voice of reason that told me she wasn't lying, "you stole the money from my Dad! How could you do that to me?! We're supposed to be friends!"

I yanked up my sleeves and showed her the purple bruises clinging to my arm.

"He did that to me because of you! Why did you do it?!" I demanded furiously, ignoring the tears welling in her eyes.

_"...these people... they don't matter to you or care about you..."_

"I didn't Patrick, I swear," she said pleadingly.

_"You're wrong about them!"_

"LIAR! My Dad was right, I should've listened..." I cried as my anger mixed in with misery.

_"...No I'm not and sooner or later you're going to realize that..."_

"Patrick, you're my best friend. I would never steal from you!" she continued to protest as tears stained her pretty face.

"You are no friend of mine," my voice was deathly quiet as I spoke before I turned and ran.

I ran and ran until I was home, I ran into my room and threw myself onto the bed as tears errupted from my eyes. I curled myself into a ball and cried as my father's words repeated inside my head.

_"...Patrick Jane mark my words, playing with fire gets you burned, these people are going to hurt you..."_


	27. Chapter 27: Poker

**Disclaimer: **The mentalist is definately not mine and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers, next chapter is done. Thanks so much to Dr Kevorkian for reviewing, good thing I checked my email before I uploaded this :) Anyway enjoy

I don't know how long I cried for, I just hurt so much. Physically and emotionally I was battered. I couldn't decide which hurt more, the throbbing bruises or Teresa's betrayal. I felt like my Dad had shattered my heart then Teresa had picked up the pieces and stabbed with them.

It wasn't fair! Nothing was fair! What was so wrong with me that I deserved this crappy life? Everybody else had loving parents, swarms of friends, all they had to worry about were stupide things like their homework or what'll happen next week on generic loser show number 4.

No my Mom had to go and die, she had to get herself killed and leave alone with my volitile father. Then I finally have friends and they're all a bunch of treacherous fiends. To top everything off I had to be `psychic.` It wasn't fair!

I got a glimpse of the picture beside my bed with my Mom and me. Usually it cheered me up but not now, I hated the picture. I hated everything about it with such a fierce passion it surprised me.

It was just a lie. I wasn't a baby anymore, I wasn't smiling anymore. My Mom was dead so why the hell was she smiling. It seemed to mock me suddenly, remind me of all I didn't have. Angrily I grabbed it and flung it at the wall, shattering it into pieces. Still angry I squished that tiny voice of reason that told me to calm down.

I sat on the bed staring at the floor as darkness desceneded behind me with the setting sun. I had to figure out how to get $120. That wasn't fair either, who many kids had to replace money they hadn't even stole? Then again if I had listened to my Dad to begin with none of this would've happened. A thought appeared in my mind, I knew how I could get the money.

I went down the stairs and out of the house as I recalled the route I needed to take. I reached my destination and rapped on the door, Gareth answered it.

"Hey, if it isn't Patrick," he smiled slightly then scowled, "what the hell happened to you?"

"I fell down the freakin' stairs okay?" I snapped, "is Wayne there?"

Gareth was still frowning as he yelled for Wayne to come to the door. A few seconds later a stunned Wayne appeared at the door.

"What are you doing here Patrick?"

"Do you know where you're Dad's biker bar is?" I demanded civily.

"Err... yeah. What's this about?"

"Will you take me there?" I asked ignoring his question.

"Why do you wanna go to my Dad's bar?"

"Will you take me or not?" I demanded more angrily.

"Okay... but wh-"

"Just come on," I said walking away from the door.

He yelled something back into the house before jogging over to me. He led me through the streets in silence as I kept ending all his attempts at conversation. Finally we arrived at the grubby looking place, it was fairly obvious it was a biker bar by the bikes littering the outside.

"This is it can we go now?" Wayne begged but I was already walking towards the door, "I guess not," he muttered hurrying behind me.

I opened the door and strode in, alot of eyes turned to me but I prominently ignored them as I hissed at Wayne to point out his father. He pointed to a rather large stocky man with wild brown hair, he was sitting at a table playing poker. Bingo.

"Deal me in," I said casually after I walked over to the table. The four guys turned their amazed eyes to look at me before laughing.

"Are you nuts kid?" asked Wayne's father, "You can't just waltz into a biker bar and demand to join a game of poker."

They turned back to their game as I turned to a shocked Wayne, he was shifting uncomfortably.

"How much money you got?" I whispered at him and he got out his wallet.

"$10," Wayne answered and before he could put away his wallet I snatched the money from it and slammed it onto the table, "hey!"

"Deal me in. What's the worst that could happen?" I asked and they stared at me dumbstruck, or maybe it was just the fact they were high, drunk or a combination of both.

"Let the baby have his bottle," shrugged one of the guys as I grabbed a chair before they dealt me in, "you gotta name Axel's kid's friend?"

"Oh didn't see ya there Wayne," growled his father, `Axel.`

"Patrick Jane," I said in answer to the other guys question and they hooted with laughter. I just ignored it as I played.

It was easy, so easy. They were pretty easy to read and their laughter slowly died away to be replaced by a cross between annoyance and amazement as I won more and more. I surpassed my target of $120, gaining $340 before Gareth interrupted my concentration.

"Wayne, I've gotta take you home," Gareth announced and the bar's attention turned to him. Most activity had stopped as more came to see the child beating the biker gang at a game of poker.

"If it isn't my other son, ain't I popular tonight?" muttered Axel attempting not to frown at the bad hand I knew he had.

"I'd trade 'um both for the poker whizz kid over there," muttered another who I now knew as Reggie, he was trying not to smile at his good hand.

"You mean the one whopping are asses?" mumbled the third a guy called Butch, "`what's the worst that could happen?`" he mocked.

"Read 'em and weep," I grinned throwing down my winning hand, gasps of amazement buzzed around the crowd, "I think I'll leave now."

"What?!" Butch snapped angrily, "but I wanna chance to win."

"Why not just quit while you're behind," mocked Reggie. The crowd disapperated slowly as I pocked it my winning, except a certain $10 bill, that I handed back to Wayne who still looked stunned.

"You gonna tell us how you won?" grunted Axel.

"Nope," I snorted, "nice playing with you guys," I added as I approached the exit, the biker's muttering behind me.

I went outside into the cold night air, it enclosed me like a glove and I shivered as Gareth and Wayne joined me outside.

"That was amazing Patrick!" exclaimed Wayne beaming at me.

"Guess you weren't kidding about being able to play poker," joked Gareth, "maybe you are psychic."

"You gonna be okay walking home by yourself?" Wayne asked concerned as I took off in a different direction to them.

"Yep," I answered simply as I sped into the cold night.

I found my way home and entered the house, it didn't feel mich warmer than outside to be honest. Typical of my lazy ass father to not bother putting the heat on. I found him sitting on the couch watching TV, beer in hand. I counted out $120 and handed it to him.

I just left him checking the money as I ascended the steps to my room. I threw the rest of my winnings into a random drawer before kicking off my shoes and climbing into bed, wrapping myself in the comforting warmth of the cover. It wasn't until much later that I thought of John and Mick...


	28. Chapter 28: Alone

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed, Dr Kevorkian and jisbon 14 for reviewing :) Very sad chapter this :( hope you like anyway

I barely slept at all that night, I was awake before dawn and noticed the sun rising through the curtains. I felt mad at the sun, how could it be so bright and happy when I was so miserable? I didn't want to get up, I just wanted to crawl into a hole and die or simply die or cease to exist entirely.

I reluctantly got out of bed and went downstairs, if I didn't my Dad would probably beat me again so off to school it was. I grabbed an apple and ate it on the way to school, still harbouring a deep resentment for the sun. I arrived at school and my so called friends approached me.

"Is it true you were in a biker bar beating them at poker?" asked Kimball immediately and I nodded distractedly.

"You're quiet today," observed Grace, "both of you are."

"Is something bothering you?" asked Wayne.

"Yes," I snapped, "you people are."

"How come?" Wayne looked hurt as he replied.

"Because... playing woth fire gets you burnt, you're the fire, I'm the one being burnt," I retorted failing to stop my anger slipping out.

"I don't understand," complained Grace.

"You guys aren't my friends anymore," I snarled turning my back on them.

"What the hell Patrick?!" said a shocked Wayne as he caught up with me.

"Just leave me alone all off you!" I shouted as my eyes blazed with anger, I left them standing there stunned except Teresa who looked determined.

The first few lessons skipped by and I ceased to pay attention. What was the point? All I needed to know how to make a living I already knew, my Dad had already decided I wasn't going to high school so why the hell did I need to know about this useless junk?

"Hello, Patrick, are you with us?" asked Mrs Sprinkler, my english teacher.

"Unfortunately," I muttered and her eyed widened in surprise.

"What was that Mr Jane?" she demanded causing most of the class to burst out laughing.

"Yes," I snapped standing up and they were all shocked into silence, "I know my name is Patrick Jane, I know its a girl's name so what? All of you just go to hell!" I yelled and they stared at me with eyes and open mouths.

"Patrick Jane, go stand outside this instant!" Mrs Sprinkler commanded and I stalked out of the room.

The corridor was empty and I angrily punched a locker, why couldn't everyone just leave me alone? I wasn't in the mood to deal with all this! I leaned back against a locker, none of this was fair! Mrs Sprinkler came our looking as angry as I felt.

"Well what have you got to say for yourself?" she asked me furiously and I just shrugged, "well you have just got yourself a detention, how does that sound?"

"Excellent!" I replied sarcastically and she glared at me.

"Unless you want detentions for the whole of next week to I suggest you shut up and get on with your work," she barked and I skulked back into class.

"Forgive me Wayne," Teresa muttered after about ten minutes.

"What fo-" his confused sentance was interrupted by Teresa whacking him on the head with her rule, "hey!"

"Teresa! Has everyone lost their minds?!" exclaimed an exasperated Mrs Sprinkler.

"Yes," muttered Wayne rubbing his head.

"You can join Patrick in detention after school," she announced not hearing Wayne's comment. I wondered why she did that as the day passed on, I avoided my confused friends at recess. Mick was his usual charming self, my worry lessened. I'd overreacted, John wouldn't kill anyone over a few insults, who did?

Lessons continued, I isolated myself at lunch and ravenously devoured my food realizing how long it had been since I'd eaten last. Lessons continued and then it was detention, I took my time not exactly eager to go home to my Dad. I wouldn't put it past him to beat me again. Teresa finished first and left.

Eventually I finished the lines much to the annoyed teacher's relief (he was eager to get home as he wanted to go out with either most likely his friends). I exited the building and was surprised to find her waiting for me.

"What do you want Teresa?" I asked her tiredly.

"I didn't take your money Patrick, I swear," she told me pleadingly and I saw the truth in her eyes but I ignored it, I had been wrong before, it was possible she was the best damn liar I'd ever met plus I was still drowning in hurt and anger. Suddenly I wanted her to be hurt, I wanted her to feel as bad as I did and I knew just what to say.

"It doesn't matter Teresa,, I'm done with you," I sneered.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she looked so confused.

"You were just a game to me Teresa, I love to manipulate people. You, your friends, your brothers, your whore mother," I continued and I saw the blaze of pain gleam in the emeralds, my mind screamed at me no but I ignored it.

"Don't talk about my Mom like that!"

"Why not? I saw her in bed with my Dad, she deserved to die," I said forcing a cruel smile on my lips, "my Dad paid her for the sex and she left then died, the story I told you before was a lie."

"I don't understand," she moaned as the welling tears drowned the anger.

"I'm not psychic, I'm a con artist. Manipulating people is good practice, after you stole the money the practice became a risk so I'm quitting while I'm ahead," I told her coldly and tears flowed from her eyes.

"It was all a lie? But I trusted you..." she looked so devestated but I steeled myself. I wasn't done making her hate me.

"Of course it was a lie," I made myself laugh, "I can make anyone do anything," I told her my Dad's favorite saying and she slapped me.

"Bastard!" she cried. I turned my back on her and walked away in the direction of my house but stopped when I heard someone call my name. I turned and saw Chris and Matt chasing after me, James was trying to comfort his sister.

"What?" I demanded.

"Aren't you gonna come home with us?" asked Chris pleadingly, he looked as guilty as I felt, I ignored it though. Chris was not my concern.

"No."

"Why? Tessie is really upset, you need to cheer her up," he begged.

"Who do you think made her upset?" I snarled and Chris jumped back.

"Don't push everyone away Patrick," Matt said, his voice barely a whisper, "life is hard but you have to deal with it or you'll be alone as you think you are."

"Don't quote stuff I said!"

"But you're acting like a jerk! Can't you see you're hurting the people who care about you?"

"No one cares about me!" I yelled and stormed off home at high speed.

I ran into the house and closed the door to find my Dad standing glaring at me with a dark gaze.

"Why the hell are you late?"

"Detention," I responed hanging my head as I mentally prepared myself for the beating.

"Are you sure you weren't with you friends?" he growled.

"She's not my friend."

"What?"

"You were right. About friends, you're the only one I can trust," I finally had the courage to raise my head and I saw the proud yet twisted smile on his face.

"Go to your room Pat, I'm not gonna punish you tonight."

I obeyed and went solemnly into my room, I closed the door and slumped onto the floor. I hugged my knees to my chest and finally let the tears fall, adding another name to the list of things I hated: myself.

Now I truly was alone...


	29. Chapter 29: What Have I Done?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed, Dr Kevorkian and jisbon 14 for reviewing :)

I don't think I slept at all that night, I tossed and turned and rolled and twisted in my bed but to no avail. Everytime I looked at the clock beside my bed only 5 or so minutes had passed. I tried counting sheep but got fed up after I reached the million mark.

So I just lay there miserably until I figured it was a reasonable hour to get up, I dressed and tackled my homework. I wasn't particulary interested in it but I had to do something, I needed something to distract me the diaster that was now my life. I worked on my homework for hours, emersing myself in it completely until my Dad's voice pulled me out of it.

"Pat, kid here to see you," I heard him say, I turned around to tell him it was impossible, that I'd succeeded in alientating myself but I saw Chris standing there.

"Chris! What are you doing here? Does your sister know?" I spluttered in shock, he just moved solemnly towards me.

"I have to tell you something Patrick," he said slowly fidgeting as he looked at his feet.

"What?"

"I took the money," he whispered so quietly at first I thought I'd imagined it, "I'm the one that stole from you."

I sat there dumbstruck, my mind refused to process this yet it made perfect sense. He'd known where the money was too, he'd wanted the costume, he'd been acting odd lately.

"I am so sorry Patrick," Chris said and finally looked up as he burst into tears, "I just wanted the costume so badly... but I've just ruined everything... I didn't know about your Dad, I didn't know he hit you... I swear I didn't know! I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry..." he sobbed and I bent down and hugged him tightly as he wept onto my shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't want you to hate me. You're like family, I didn't want you to hate me..." he continued to sob, "but Tessie's so sad and I miss you and I wanna make things better. That's what Mommy would want."

"Where is the money now?"

"Here," he said pulling away and wiping his eyes before producing a bundle of green cash, "do you hate me?"

"No Chris, I don't hate you," I told him as I took the money from his outstretched hand, "just promise me you'll never steal again."

"I promise."

"Good now let's get you home," I muttered throwing the money with the rest, I grabbed a sweater and began the journey to take Chris home.

"Do you remember yesterday when you said no one cared about you?" Chris asked innocently after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah."

"You're wrong, I care about you," he explained and I smiled slightly despite myself, "we all do even Matt and especially Tessie," my smile abruptly faded.

"I don't think she does anymore," I whispered to myself but Chris still heard.

"Why?"

"I... said some mean things to her, really mean. She's never gonna forgive me."

"You will if you say sorry," Chris informed me happily and I shook my head at his innocence, sorry wasn't enough sometimes and this was one of those times.

I thought back to the horrible things I'd said, what had I done? I felt guilt falling on me, crishing me with the weight of an invisible mountain. Why had I ever doubted her? She was the best friend I'd ever had... I should never have trated her like that, even if I was upset. What had I done?

We reached her house and a furious James opened the door, his emerald eyes abaze with anger.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Bringing Chris home," I answered anxiously, he knew what I'd said or at least that I'd hurt his sister.

"Why'd you go visit him?" he demanded of Chris.

"To say sorry. I took the money," Chris responed guiltily and James looked shocked.

"Just get inside," mumbled James and Chris bounced through the door, I went to follow but James blocked my path, "you don't get to come inside."

"Please, I need to talk to Teresa," I begged.

"Not after what you said," He snapped and closed the door on me.

I stood back and considered picking the lock but decieded against it. What would I say anyway? I'm a total jerk who falsly accused you then treated you like crap, please forgive me? No, it souned pathetic.

I trudged home full of self loathing. I hated myself. I hated everything about me, from my pathetic personality to my ugly straw colored hair. And I hated my selfishness. If I hadn't been so self centered I wouldn't have driven everyone away, I should have taken my own advice, I thought bitterly.

I arrived home and saw my Dad gone, I didn't know where and I didn't care really. I walked silently into my room and slumped onto the floor. Why had I doubted her? What had I done? How was I ever supposed to make things right?

I reached out towards the pile of broken glass and dragged the picture slowly away as I brushed the shards off the precious picture. The only one I had of my Mom. I shouldn't have broken the picture, it was my Mom after all. She couldn't help it if I screwed up my life, she was dead.

I let my tears fall onto the faded image. I wished she was here now, she'd put her arms around me and tell me everything was okay. She'd rock me gently and magic away my pain. She'd make things right with Teresa, make her understand and then everything would be okay. Another thought suddenly hit me.

Did I even deserve to make things right with Teresa...?


	30. Chapter 30: Happy Halloween I: Tiredness

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed, Dr Kevorkian and jisbon 14 for reviewing :) I was going to do Halloween in one chapter but its really long and its only recess, so I'm doing it in parts. Might take a while as I wanna update my other stories too including my new crossover story with NCIS. Anyway hope you like the chapter :)

"Pat! Pat! Are you okay? Wake up! Patrick!" my Dad yelled as I was roughly shaken awake, I cringed at his tight grip on my arms.

"What?" I croaked blinking the sleep from my eyes. He let go of me and knelt back letting out a relieved sigh before slapping me across the face.

"Damn it Pat! You can't just sleep on the floor like that, it looked like you'd passed out or died or something," he explained angrily.

"If I did die your reaction would be `oh well, there goes my meal ticket,`" I mocked prompting him to hit me again, "I'm sorry, I meant `there goes my punching bag,`" I cried and he stopped himself from striking me again.

"What is wrong with you Pat?" he asked suddenly concerned, it just made me angry how easily he switched from caring to... abusive.

"Don't."

"Don't what? Hit you? I do it because you deserve it!"

"Don't pretend like you actually care about me," I spat.

"But I do care about you!" he protested.

"If you did then you wouldn't hit me. People who love thier kids don't beat them unconcious for something they didn't even do."

"Whatever Pat," he murmured, "just don't sleep on the floor."

"I didn't mean to, I'm just so tired," I sighed feeling defeated, I'm sure if I talked to wall it'd pay more attention to what I was saying then he did.

"Just come and make us some dinner, okay Pat?"

I nodded and went to make some more soup (he still hadn't gone grocery shopping). We ate the soup in relative silence before I did the dishes, cleaned the glass up in my room, I even had a shower before I went to bed.

I barely slept again that night but at least I got a few hours of sleep, I still awoke feeling as tired as when I went to bed. I spent the day doing some hypnotism stuff and my Dad gave me a new psychology book to read. I was dismissed and sent to bed early, I was both eager and dreading the next day at school...

*****

I was up at the crack of dawn, well before but I waited to get out of bed. I would have to try to apologize to my friends, I wasn't sure if they'd listen and if Teresa had told them what I'd said they almost certainly wouldn't. It was the best my exhausted mind could think of. I skipped breakfast, we'd ran out of cereal anyway, and headed for school.

It wasn't the nicest day, a mass of gray clouds hung ominously in the sky above my head as I journeyed to school. Upon arriving I saw my friends standing in their usual spot, they all seemed fine except Teresa who looked sad and Angela's cross was missing. She'd taken to wearing it ever since the funeral, how odd she'd not be wearing it.

"Hey guys," I called nervously as I approached them. Their faces all became stone and their eyes darkened, I guessed she had told them.

"What to you want?" spat Wayne angrily as he and Kimball rounded on me.

"I wanted to apologize for acting like a jerk, I shouldn't have said the things I said. I'm sorry," I told them feeling sincerely guilty.

"And you want to be friends with us again?" snarled Kimball.

"I thought we were burning you," growled Wayne.

"I'm really sorry," I mumbled.

"Well fine but don't expect us to forgive you," Grace added joining the three of them, Teresa stood behind them and wouldn't even look at me, "not after whatever you said to Teresa."

"Can I talk to her?"

"No!" exclaimed Grace glaring at me.

"Please I really need to apologi-" my sentance was cut off by Wayne pushing me unexpectedly, I fell backwards onto the hard ground and tried not to cringe as it reawakened the sleeping pain.

They turned their backs on me as I slowly got to my feet feeling utterly miserable. I'd have to apologize to Teresa later or when they'd let me talk to her, even if they didn't forgive me at least they could know I was sorry.

"Aww poor little Jane, did your friends abandon you?" mocked Mick from behind me, I spun to face him and his gang smirking at me.

"I'm not surprised, you're a total loser Jane," agreed another.

"You're so stupid you fell down the stairs!" said the third and they whooped with laughter, I only hung my head shamefully.

"What's the matter Jane? Do you only yell at teachers?" continued Mick as they advanced on me, I found myself backing away into the corner.

"Little girlie Jane is scared!" joked the third.

"Jane wants her Mommy," laughed the second.

"Wait her Mommy's dead," grinned Mick spitefully.

"Probably killed herself because she had you!" said the third causing the trio to howl with more laughter.

That got to me, I'd ignored their other insults but that was below the belt. For all I knew my Mom could have done that, how ironic that this is probably exactly how Teresa felt on Friday.

"Please just leave me alone," I sighed tiredly, I had enough to deal with without Mick and his gang.

"Aww doesn't little Jane like playing with the big boys?" continued Mick. I tried move away but Mick grabbed me and flung me back against the wall, I yelped in pain, "not so tough without your friends are you Jane?"

"Is she gonna cry?" jeered the second.

"She will when we mess up her pretty face," sneered the third as he grabbed my arms behind my back. I didn't bother struggling, what was the point in fighting? I was saved by the bell however as it rung out, echoing around us.

"This isn't over Jane!" screamed Mick angrily as I scampered away when they reluctantly released me. I hurried away as fast as I could to find Mr Simmons relaced by a substitute, I took my seat but Teresa was no longer sitting beside me.

The substitute began talking, his voice seemed to drone on and on and on and on and...

"Wake up!"

I snapped open my eyes and surpressed a yawn as everyone was looking at me, they exploded into gales of laughter, except my friends who glared at me with the exception of Teresa who wouldn't look at me. I felt my cheeks burning crimsom, had I really fallen asleep in class?

"This is not nap time Mr...?" snapped the teacher.

"Jane, his name is Jane!" offered Wayne and the class laughed harder.

"Thank you young man. This is not kindergarten when we all have nap time Mr Jane, its middle school where we work hard and pay attention!" continued the substitute shrilly, "understand?"

I nodded glumly and the class resumed. The words on the chalk board and on my book floated around my head as my numb mind refused to pay attention, wow I was tired. I managed to stave off sleep however for the rest of the class and the one after. Then it was recess...


	31. Chapter 31: Happy Halloween II: Photo

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Mentalist, and make no money from this

**Author's Note:** Pretty miserable and depressing chapter, there is some good in the next chapter, I promise! For the record can I just say I do actually like Jane, I love him even, he's one of my all time favorite characters but I put him through so much... I know I said I'd work on my new story but the stupid thing decided to delete it and I couldn't be bothered to rewrite it again today so I wrote this instead. If you're lucky the next chapter might be up today if my Dad doesn'y want his laptop back again or my Mom doesn't want to drag me away for chores.  
Sorry, I'm rambling, thanks so much to jisbon-sessed, Dr Kevorkian and tigerlily124 for reviewing :)

I went sadly outside yawning with fatigue and approached my friends who were in their usual place. They saw me and immediately they stepped between me and Teresa, I just wanted to apologize her! Wouldn't anyone cut me some slack?

"Leave us alone Patrick!" snapped Wayne and he suddenly seemed to tower above me.

"Can I please just apologize?!" I begged walking towards them.

Like he had earlier however Wayne shoved me onto the ground except this time the picture I had of my Mom fell out of my pocket, I'd shoved it in there at the weekend and forgotten to take it out. I reached over to pick it up but someone sweeped it up before I could. I looked up as my heart went down, Mick was holding the picture.

"Well, well, well look what we have here," said Mick smirking cruelly at me as I got to my feet, "a picture of Jane's dead Mommy."

"She's hot," pointed out one of his gang causing them to scowl at him, I took this oppurtunity to make a swipe for it but missed as Mick raised it out of my reach.

"Want it back Jane?" asked the third kid giving me another cruel smile.

"Yes! Give it back, it's mine!" I demanded as I started to hear my heartbeat thundering in my ears, it was the only picture I had of her!

"Finders keepers, losers weepers," announced Mick as his smile widened.

"Jane misses her Mommy!" jeered the third.

"I bet she doesn't miss you!" laughed the second.

"What shall we do with it?" wondered Mick.

"Burn it!"

"Shred it!"

"Please no!" I exclaimed trying to keep calm.

"Why not?" asked Mick, "its just a photo."

"Its the only one I have of her! Please give it back Mick," I pleaded, knowing he wouldn't listen.

To my absolute horror he started to tear the picture up I launched myself at him but his goons grabbed me, I struggled now but to no avail as I watched the picture torn before my eyes. I fought harder and they let me go as Mick dropped the pieces onto the ground, I fell hard on my knees and hastily began grabbing the fragments as my treacherous eye let tears fall.

"Cry baby! Cry baby!" chanted Mick's gang before the bell sounded.

"I guess we're even now Jane, for the whole hand thing. See ya loser," Mick said as he walked off.

I continued to scramble for the pieces but some had blown away already while others were being trampled by the crowd as they rushed back into the ugle brown building. I alone stayed searching for the fragments until everyone else had gone inside.

Eventually I figured I had all I could find, I had a sinking feeling there was still some parts of it missing as I trudged slowly to my locker, ignoring the tears that continued to seep from my eyes. I reached my locker and froze, I couldn't remember the combination!

Frantically I searched for the ellusive numbers but came up blank, angrily I hammered at the metal before sliding to the floor. Why was everything against me? I let my heavy eyelids close as I ordered my thoughts, the number came to me and I opened my locker and put what was left of the photo inside before wandering off to my next lesson: gym, and we were playing dodgeball.

"Why are you late?" shouted Mr Langley, the gym teacher as I arrived in the gym, "and why aren't you in your kit?"

"I forgot my kit sir," I lied, I had purposely forgotten it so they wouldn't see the fresh bruises on my arms and legs.

"You the most useless waste of space there is, did you know that?" he countined furiously and I nodded, my Dad had said as much before.

He didn't give me a detention however, probably had something to do with the Halloween party he was almost certainly attending tonight. Gym sucked, being the only one not in gym clothes I was an easy target despite the fact I was a scrawny runt if I was honest. At least the pain kept me awake and my mind focused away from my Mom's picture.

Then it was lunch, I hadn't packed anything and my Dad hadn't bothered to pay in advance so I had to go without, not that I minded. I wasn't hungry. Instead I retrieved the fragments of my photo from my locker and found a deserted classroom.

I began piecing the picture back together, I did have most pieces however but I was still missing the bottom right corner, half of my Mom's face and a bottom middle chunk. Feeling utterly brokenhearted I took some sticky tape and did what I could to fix it.

I put the picture back in my locker but my melancholy mood refused to be lifted as the final stretch of classes began. Teresa still avoided me but thankfully I felt too deep in despair to sleep, then finally school ended.

I wanted to immediately follow Teresa and catch her on the stretch of walk she walked alone but I had to retrieve my Mom's picture first and by the time I caught up with her she had already picked up her brothers.

"Hey!" I called as I joined them.

"Leave us alone Patrick!" demanded James instantly.

"Please I just want to apologize," I pleaded and she finally stopped and turned to look at me, "I lied about what I said, I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of it."

"Then why say it?" she responded expressionless.

"I... wanted to hurt you, I wanted you to feel as bad as I did," I told her shamefully, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't make it alright!" yelled James.

"I know you didn't take the money and I should never have doubted you, please forgive me," I begged but her expression remained unchanged.

"Why should I?"

"You're the best friend I've ever had," I told her desperately.

"If you really care about me Patrick, you'll never speak to me again," she whispered as she turned away.

"Why aren't you wearing Angela's necklace?" I asked suddenly and she turned back angrily to face me.

"You mean Angela the whore?" she cried.

"I lied about that!"

"My Dad beat me then ripped it off my neck and sold it to a pawn shop for money to buy booze! But unlike you, I didn't go and alienate myself from my friends!" she screamed before angrily stalking away followed immediately by James, then a reluctant Matt and eventually Chris.

I walked slowly home feeling broken, but a small part of me had already decieded to do something. I couldn't help myself but I could help her, I still had the money from the biker bar. I arrived home to find my angry, drunk father glaring at me.

"Why isn't Mariana's picture in your room?" he demanded coldly.

"I accidently brought it to school," I muttered and his eyes narrowed as they frosted over.

"Show it to me Pat, you know its the only picture we have of her," he said quietly and I hesitantly took it out of my pocket and handed it to him, "what the fuck did you do to it you useless bastard?!"

"It was an accident! This kid in school ripped it and I tried to fix it but-"

"But nothing!" he roared as he advanced on me...


	32. Chapter 32: Happy Halloween III: Fixing

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own the mentalist (probably a good thing) and I get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers, next chapter is up :) No one had time to review the last chapter lol but here's the next one anyway. Hope you like :) I really am going to go work on my new story now so read on...

I placed Mom's photo beside my bed sadly, at least I had actually deserved that beating. My Dad was pretty pissed but not as angry as he had been about the money. I felt exhausted emotionally and physically but I still pockted my money and tried to ignore my feelings as I left the house and headed for the pawn shop. I'd seen it before when I'd helped Teresa go grocery shopping before.

I saw many groups of children floating around in their costumes but I ignored them as I made my way to the pawn shop. Focusing on a task really helped block out pain, I noted as I went inside.

The owner was a stick of a man with a comb over and thick round glasses. I made my way to the jewelrey selection and quickly located Angela's necklace. It had so many negative and postive memories attached to it, I sighed.

"How much for that necklace?" I asked the owner as he bustled over to me.

"Too much for you," he pointed out sounding bored.

"If I don't know how much it is, you can't know if I can afford it," I protested and he scowled at me.

"Fine, it costs $300."

"$300!"

"I did warn you boy, that's good silver that is," said the owner triumphantly.

"But its broken!"

"Oh, you are so right $290 then."

"$200," I offered.

"You can't afford that either," the owner moaned, "this is pointless."

"Hypothetically haggle with me then. It'll make you less bored."

"$280."

"$215."

"$275."

"$225."

"$260 and not a cent lower," said the owner firmly.

"$250, just for me?" I pleaded and he sighed reluctantly.

"Fine, $250," he agreed and I smiled as I took out my money and handed him the $250, "b-b-but... how can you afford...?"

"Do you want the money or not?"

He scowled at me but retrieved Angela's necklace and handed it to me. I admired it for a minute as the owner deposited the cash, it was definately Angela's.

"Know anywhere that can repair it?" I inquired.

"Jack's Jewelry, go left out of here then take a right and you should see the sign."

"Thanks," I muttered cheerily before leaving.

I followed his directions and found the place, Jack offered to fix it for $50, I agreed reluctantly just eager for it to be repaired. He told me it's take a few hours so I should kill some time. I opted for dinner, I was starved.

I found a nice looking place and took a seat. I scanned the menu and decided on my order before being served by a red haired, hazel eyed waitress that looked alot like...

"Excuse me?" I asked her.

"Yes?"

"Are you by any chance related to a Grace Van Pelt?"

"Why yes, she'd my daughter!" exclaimed the woman delighted as she sat down opposite me, "are you her friend?"

"I used to be..." I murmered with a shrug.

"She's a sweet girl, taking her little brother and sister trick or treating tonight with that lovely boyfriend of hers," Mrs Van Pelt told me happily, "she wants to be a cop, help people and all that. I'm so proud of her, well all my children, I have five you see."

"Really?"

"Yeah. So what's your name?"

"Patrick Jane."

"Ah! She's mentioned you, the psychic one right? My brother's daughter is a psychic too y'know, its an amazing gift," she continued.

"I guess."

"What brings you out here anyway? Everyone else is trick or treating."

"I'm having my friend's necklace fixed."

"That is so sweet! Wouldn't be a special lady friend, now would it?" she added slyly.

"Yes. No. Sorta." I answered hurridly blushing, "she is special but she's not like my girlfriend or anything!"

"Course not."

"She hates me anyway," I sighed, "all my friends do."

"Why?"

"I said some stupid thing cuz I was upset," I admitted guiltily, "they're never going to forgive me."

"You'd be surprised how understanding true friends can be, especially ones who you fix necklaces for when you could be trick or treating. You have a good heart Patrick, you don't have to be phsychic to see that," she told me and for the forst time in what felt like forever I felt genuinely happy, "gotta get back to work, nice talking to you Patrick."

"Same," I replied as she resumed working and I started on my food.

I took my time on my meal, it was nice to eat something I hadn't prepared myself. I went back to Jack's Jewelry and found he had finished fixing it, the work was good to. I paid him and left for Teresa's house.

"Patrick!" called a voice I recognized: John.

"Hey John," I answered as he reached me and walked by my side.

"You haven't killed you Dad yet have you?"

"No. John, I am not going to kill my Dad," I told him firmly.

"Go on Patrick, you'll understand what I mean. I still regret not killing my father. Bastard blew his brains out with a shotgun before I could gut him," John said cooly and I shivered inwardly, "I've killed 6 people, its more fun than killiing animals."

"Six?! John, killing is bad," I hissed at him in shock.

"There can be no light without darkness, I do a good service. They all deserved to die."

"Why?"

"My two foster brothers picked on me; my foster father would have tried to stop me from killing them if I hadn't killed him first; my foster sister kept me awake at night with her crying; my mother... she should have protected me from him and Mick in-"

"Mick?! You... you..." I stuttered in a startled shock, John just smiled at me.

"I told him I'd avenge those insults, I saved the pleasure especially for Halloween. That's what I came to tell you," John announced calmly, "would you like me to help you Patrick?"

"Help me?" I asked rather nervously at the murderous gleam in his dark eyes.

"Kill your father. You're my friend Patrick, I hate knowing he hurts you and doing nothing," John explained matter of factly.

"No thanks John," I said eventually.

"Very well Patrick, but sooner or later you will be a murderer," John continued, "more fun for you if its sooner rather than later. Goodbye for now."

"Goodbye for now," I mutter dumbly as he leaves me alone in the cold night.

I wandered around for awhile, letting the cool night air calm me before I found myself at the Lisbon house...


	33. Chapter 33: Happy Halloween IV: Smile

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to jisbon 14, Dr Kevorkian, tigerlily124 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) sorry I took so long to update but as you probably know by now my computer is broken and my Dad wanted his laptop the last couple of days. Please review, I'm sick so it'll make me feel better :)

I stood in her street. It was weird seeing the Bosco house with no lights, but I guess you couldn't blame them for moving. Feeling anxious I approached the Lisbon house, I'd never felt so nervous as I slowly directed my heavy feet to the door. I took a deep breath and pressed the door bell.

The simply tune seemed unbelievably loud as I waited for someone to answer it, and she did. She attempted to hide her shocked confusion as she saw me standing there, she recovered herself as she went to close the door on me, I put my foot down to stop it from closing.

"What do you want Patrick?" she asked tiredly.

Without speaking I pulled out Angela's now repaired necklace and handed it to her. Her eyes widened as she studied it carefully, recognizing it for what it was.

"How...?"

"I bought it and had it fixed," I explained simply, "I used the money I won at the biker bar to pay for it."

"It must have cost a fortune!"

"It doesn't matter what it cost, there are more important things in life than money..." I answered sincerely, swallowing my guilt.

"This doesn't mean that I forgive you," she added seeming to recover from the shock.

"I didn't expect you to... but no matter how much you hate me, you'll still be the best friend I ever had," I stumbled nervously over the words, "it was nothing really, not like I had anything else to do with the money anyway... I really am sorry you know. I know I've screwed up so bad, I don't think I'll ever be able to make it right."

"I know."

"I should be going..." I muttered lamely as I turned to leave.

"Wait Patrick," she called after me and I paused as I turned to look at her, she walked towards me as the skies opened and rain poured down on us.

"What?"

"I... I do forgive you Patrick," she said and I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, "you're still the best friend I ever had," she told me tearfully, "I miss you and I'm sorry too, I should have thought about Chris taking the money. Your Dad is just so horrible..."

She trailed off and I looked away as the rain dropped around us. I returned my gaze to her and smiled, she smiled back. Her hair was now soaked with the downpour but her emerald eyes still seemed to shine in the darkness. I hugged her gently (I was still sore all over).

"I should probably be going home now," I said eventually when she shivered.

"See you tomorrow then," she whispered pulling away.

"Yeah," I agreed still beaming at her as I slowly stepped away into the night.

My spirits were still soaring as I walked home delightedly, despite the rain. She forgave me! Everything else seemed to melt away as I thought of that one simple fact. She forgave me, my best friend forgave me! I didn't mind the rain just then, in fact I loved it it reminded me of her.

I skipped happily into my house and my good mood instantly disapperated as I saw a bloody face smiling at me. I entered the family room, there was my Dad slumped on the couch covered in blood.

"Dad? Dad?! DAD!" I screamed as I ran to him.

Was he dead? Please no! My thoughts were frantic as my fingers shakily found a slight pulse. He was covered in blood which seeped from a wound in his stomach, but he was alive. I charged for the phone and punched in 9-1-1 but found the phone was dead. Fearfully I put it down and noticed a note, in John's neat handwriting.

_Dear Patrick,_

_I was thinking alot about our conversation and it made me realize something important. I killed my mother because she didn't protect me from my Dad and since I'm not protecting you I'm as bad as her and I don't want that. So I spiked his beer and cut him open so he can die slowly and painfully, hopefully you can arrive in time to watch the bastard die _

_-Red John  
(ps I cut the phone line so you can't call 9-1-1. This is for the best Patrick, trust me)_

_Smile_

Horrified I shoved the note in my pocket and pelted out of the house. I tore through the rain to a neighbour's house and began hammering on the door. No answer. I banged the door over and over again until my hands hurt but someone finally opened the door, a middle aged man in his bathrobe.

"What is it with you bloody kids?!" he demanded angrily.

"Call 9-1-1! Now, hurry before my Dad is dies!" I yelled at him and his face became ashen as he noticed the blood on me.

He disappeared into his house and I saw him on the phone, I was shaking so badly as I waited. My heart pounded painfully inside my chest and I found myself crying as my Dad's bloody body stayed on my peripheral vision. I couldn't lose him! What would I do without him?

"They're on their way kid, don't worry," said the man attempting to sound comforting, "it's gonna be okay."

I could only nod as I sunk to the floor trying to choke back sobs, he had to be okay. He had to be...


	34. Chapter 34: Life or Death

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the mentalist and make no money from this

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry there's not more in this chapter but I got caught on the descriptions at the start and it was getting kinda long so I had to cut it off, bright side half of the next chapter's already been written, hope you don't mind :) actually you guys are lucky to get an update, firstly cuz I'm not usually off school ill and secondly I was gonna update Blood and Tears and I wrote the whole chapter out and then the freakin' laptop dies and deletes it all! I miss my computer anyway thanks so much to jisbon 14, Dr Kevorkian, Sophie Fatale, rigspeltforeverxx (I R&R in school all the time!), tigerlily124 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing! you are all incerdibly awesome :)

Time seemed to slow almost to the point it was stopped completely, I was painfully aware of every single second passing as my Dad's life bled out. Finally an ear-splitting siren pierced the still air and the paramedics arrived in a flash of blinking blue lights.

I ran forwards and led them to my Dad in our house, he was blocked from my view as they began their work to save his life. I stood in the doorway and my attention became drawn to the bloody face on the wall. It's taunting smile was twisted and it seemed to be laughing mockingly at me.

None of this felt real. My Dad had always seemed indestructible, he seemed more invincible than stone, steel, anything tough. He never got sick or hurt or injured, if he never got hangovers I'd have thought he wasn't human. Friends weren't supposed to be serial killers either.

It felt like he was in a dream or watching a show on TV or something. Maybe it was, I thought hopefully, maybe I was in a weird coma or simply hallucinating because I was so tired. I knew in my heart it was real but I pinched myself anyway feeling dissapointment crushing me when I remained in the doorway, almost in a staring contest with that bloody face.

"Are you hurt?" asked one of the paramedics gently and I shook my head in a daze.

They moved my Dad onto a stretcher and took him out to the ambulance, mutely I climbed in with them before we sped off into the unknown blackness of the night. The shril sirens screeched into life, seeming to scream, scream all the anguish I was feeling.

There was so much blood, the crimson substance still seemed to be spilling from my Dad, the paramedics hands looked slippery with the stuff. Who would have thought people had that much blood? Let alone my seemingly immortal Dad. He didn't seem immortal anymore. No. That illusion had been shattering forever.

We arrived at the hospital and I followed them as they brough him through the pure white walls to the operating room, they finally seemed to realize I wasn't invisible as they told me I couldn't come in with them.

"Does your Dad have any family? Anyone we can call?" someone was saying to me.

"No."

"What about your Mom?"

"Dead," I whispered as I saw the action through the small window, I realized suddenly what they were doing CPR! "NO!" I screamed as I tried to run forwards but the doctor, paramedic, nurse... whoever the hell had just spoken to me, grabbed me.

I could still see what was happening though. I could still see the continuous line meaning there was no heartbeat. I could still see them preparing the paddles. I could still see his body joting with the shock of them. I think I screamed when he remained dead, and again, and again, I was painfully aware of own beating heart thudding inside my chest at the same time it was twisting painfully at the thought of losing my whole family.

Then there was a beep. Just a small beep but the lines began to wriggle on the screen, he was alive! I stopped struggling and the person let go of me. My knees were wobbled slightly and I fell to the floor shakily.

"Are you okay?" inquired the person, who was becoming more and more irksome by the second.

"I'm fine," I told her firmly as I stood back up.

She led me to the waiting room and left. I paced up and down the room, my feet seemed to memorize the route in the floor as thoughts frantically zoomed around my mind blurring my vision with the image of the face on the wall. It made me feel cold inside, I was freezing inwardly despite the warmth of the hosptial.

"You can sit down if you want," a nurse told me.

"I'm fine," I anwered swiftly and she walked away scowling.

I don't think I could have sat still if I tried, my legs were just moving along by themselves and I had no desire to force them to sit still. I felt like if I stopped moving I would collapse with the weight of my worry alone, let alone the niggling sense of guilt skimming the corners of mind.

"Patrick Jane?"

I stopped abruptly at the mention of my name and spun my head in the direction of the speaker, it was Minelli.

"I have to ask you about what happened," he explained and I nodded slowly.

"I came home and found him, I don't know anything else," I lied, I wasn't sure exactly why I didn't tell about John. If I did, he's wonder why I'd said nothing earlier would probably think I was like an accomplice or something besides didn't Dad always say to avoid cops?

"And you didn't see anything suspicious?"

"No."

"Did you know Michael Warner?"

"No... wait maybe," I replied cautiously, did he mean Mick?

"Well lots of people say he picked on you today," continued Minelli, he did mean Mick, "did you know he was found dead earlier?"

"No!" I lied again, gasping in fake shock.

"He was killed by who we believe to be the same person. The same person again who attacked the Bosco's," Minelli told me gravely as he studied me carefully, "his MO is to draw a smiley face on the wall in the victim's blood."

"How gruesome," I muttered managing not to shift nervously.

"We're calling him Red John after the kid who survived the first set of murders. How did you get that odd bruising? And don't give me some crap about being beat up in school."

"I fell down the stairs."

"Really? By fell down the stairs do you mean `beaten by my father`?"

"No!" I snapped furiously, "my Dad is fighting for his life and you dare accuse him!"

"Yes I dare and I accuse you to," Minelli said calmly and I recoiled in shock.

"Accuse me...?"

"Bullied in school, so you kill him. Bullied at hime, so you kill him."

"Then why call for help? And why attack the Boscos? I knew them in name only!" I protested panicked.

"You tell me."

"It's your theory! Your stupid wrong theory I might add. I didn't kill anyone!" I yelled in denial, I was innocent! My Dad was right about cops being idiots.

"Calm down."

"How can I be calm?! My Dad is injured and you're accusing me of murder! I didn't do it!" I continued to holler as my heartbeat seemed to rapidly pick up momento. I was being accused of murder me?! As if I had enough to deal with.

"Anyone here for Alex Jane?" wondered a petite nurse as she entered the room.

"Yes! Please tell me he's not dead!" I begged and before she could reply I broke down in tears as I collapsed onto my knees, "he's dead isn't he?" I sobbed at her not wanting to hear her answer.

"Actually he's stable for now," the nurse explained.

"So?! He's just gonna die anyway!" I cried, "just like him to die and leave me..."

"Come on Patrick, you can't think like that," someone else said gently as they put a comforting hand on my shoulder, I managed to stand and twirl at the same time to face the speaker: Teresa's Grandmother...


	35. Chapter 35: Tea

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the Mentalist do you think my computer would still be broken? NO! I get no money from this either

**Author's Note: **Not sure about this chapter, that's why I've spent hours revising it repeatedly so... I dunno, hope you like it anyway. Thanks to jisbon-sessed, jisbon 14, Dr Kevorkian and tigerlily 124 for reviewing

Why was Teresa's grandmother here? My mind wondered absently as I struggled to gulp down the flood of tears trying to drown me. I took a deep breath as I tried to compose myself, she was right and even if she wasn't breaking down like this was not something my Dad would approve of.

"Who are you?" demanded Minelli.

"Hannah Anderson," offered Teresa's grandmother politely, "you are?"

"Virgil Minelli, CBI," he announced proudly.

"You shouldn't really be here agent Minelli," said the nurse, joining the conversation.

"Why?"

"Mr Jane is still unconcious, he will still be for several hours and you're not allowed to question minors without parental supervision," the nurse informed him more firmly.

"Well... I was just... call me when he wakes up," concluded Minelli lamely before he turned and strode away.

"Can I see my Dad?" I asked worridly when he was gone.

"Well... okay but just quickly. Usually we have visitor's hours," the nurse explained leading me and Hannah through the corridors.

She seemed to think Hannah was family and I wasn't eager to dispell the illusion, it'd mean social services would be involved for sure and my Dad would hate that... if he lived. Finally we arrived at a room, I almost didn't recognize the still silent form of my father lying in the bed.

I walked over to the bed and was relieved to see his chest rising and falling as he breather. He was alive... for now. I couldn't quite chase away the morbid thoughts, it just seemed more plausible he'd want to die, just to make me suffer to to understand why he was miserable or something.

I really couldn't be bothered to think as I watched him lying there sunk into the fluffy white hospital pillows. He looked vulnerable lying there, so out of character for him. I squeezed his hand quickly, just to reassure myself he actually there.

"Okay that's long enough," announced nurse shooing us out, I took one last longing look at my Dad before leaving.

"Let's get some breakfast Patrick, I'm famished," offered Hannah and I followed her mutely to the cafeteria.

I sat down at a table while she went to order the food. I wasn't exactly hungry but I couldn't be bothered to protest at her kind offer. I was still worried about my Dad, I felt slightly more at ease now I'd seen him but my mind still raced with concern. No matter how much he hurt me, he was my Dad, he was all I had.

"Here we go," said Hannah pulling curiousity to the top of my thoughts, why was she here?

She placed two bowls of porridge on the table along with two cups of tea, to which I wrinkled my nose. Tea, yuck! I remained silent as she sat down and started on her own porridge. I reluctantly took a mouthful of porridge, it was nice but I still wasn't hungry.

"Why are you here?" I questioned her quietly, she didn't answer but her subtle shift in posture and facial expression said enough, "you're sick. Cancer."

"Terminal, there's nothing more I can do," she sighed mournfully.

"I'm sorry," I told her with sincerity, losing your grandmother would not be good for Teresa or her brothers.

"Please don't tell Teresa, I haven't even told my husband yet," she begged but I stayed silent still digesting the news, "aren't you gonna drink your tea?" she asked, tactfully changing the subject.

"I don't like tea."

"You've never tried it."

I sighed but picked up the cup, it seemed wrong to deny a dying woman's request. I sipped it and was surprised to find I actually liked it. I said as much and she laughed with a triumphant smile. Her smile fadad as we continued our meal.

"Thank you," I said as I finished the porridge, "for everything."

"No problem Patrick," she replied, her smile returning, "you are Teresa's best friend after all. I hope your Dad makes it, there's more than enough death in the world."

"Yeah," I agreed, thinking of people I knew who were dead. My Mom. Angela. Mick. Sam's family.

"Want me to take you to school? You can't exactly wander around a hospital all day."

"What about the blood on my sweater?"

"I'm sure the hospital has some spare sweater."

She was right they did and within 30 minutes she dropped me off outside of the school. I didn't really want to go to school, but she was right again. The longer I stayed in the hospital by myself the more chance I had of attracting social services and my Dad would definately not be pleased awakening to find they'd taken me away.

"Thank you," I told Hannah again as I got out of the car.

"Your welcome," she replied with a smile before driving away.

I turned and walked into the school yard. Grace and Wayne sat on the wall in our usual spot holding hands, Kimball was standing beside them engrossed in a book. Teresa wasn't there yet. Everything looked so normal, it seemed so wrong. My Dad was hospitalized and everyone was acting like everything was normal.

"Hey Patrick!" called a familiar voice as its owner jogged over beside me. Teresa was proudly wearing Angela's newly repaired cross as she smiled slightly at me, I manged to return her smile. At least I had her, she wasn't going to die too. Was she?

"Hi," was the best I could manage in response.

"Are you okay Patrick? You look like you could sleep for another week!" she laughed then stopped when I didn't.

"My Dad was attacked... he's in hospital now. I'm not sure if he'll make it," I answered feeling the tendrils of miserey snaking back through my heart and clenching it tightly, "I know he's not the nicest person... but he's still my Dad, Teresa what am I going to do?"

To my surprise she just hugged me tightly, I took the oppurtunity to blink away the tears that had seeped into my ears. I closed them and relaxed into the comforting embrace. For the first time since I'd seen the dreadful face I actually felt hopeful...


	36. Chapter 36: A Normal Day

**Disclaimer: **If I owned the Mentalist do you think my computer would still be broken? NO! I get no money from this either

**Author's Note: **Hello readers, guess what? I have to have a check up with the dentist tomorrow! :( I have such a phobia of dentists :( so miserable now, need lots of reviews to cheer me up, hahahaha. Sorry just thought I'd share that with you! Thanks to jisbon-sessed, jisbon 14, Dr Kevorkian and tigerlily 124 for reviewing :)

"Your Dad's gonna be okay Patrick, you hear me?" Teresa muttered into my ear, "and if he dares to die I will find a way to bring him back to life so I can kill him again for leaving you!" she exclaimed and I pulled away laughing.

"Hey Teresa!" called Kimball and my laughter immediately died. Teresa may have forgiven me but my other friends hadn't. Before I could voice this to her however she was leading me over to them.

"Hey guys," she said in response as we joined them.

"Err... why is Patrick here?" hissed Wayne.

"Are we friends with him again?" wondered Kimball.

"But he was acting insane!" protested Grace.

"He proved he was sorry, that's good enough for me," Teresa announced firmly, loosening her grip on my wrist slightly.

"I really am sorry," I muttered holding my breath.

"It's okay, I forgive you," Kimball said with a smile instead of his usual deadpan expression, "I acted like a jerk too. With Mick and his gang."

"I heard Mick was dead!" exclaimed Wayne suddenly and I felt my pulse race.

"You're kidding right?" Grace mumbled looking nervous.

"No, Mick is dead," I informed them and they swivelled their shocked expressions to face me.

"And you know this how...?" inquired Grace worridly.

"The same person... attacked my Dad last night. I was talking to a cop about it this morning, the same person killed Sam's family too."

"Wow, this is creepy stuff," mumbled Grace prompting Wayne to squeeze her had comfortingly.

"Yeah," agreed Kimball, "some psycho going around killing random people... creepy."

Our conversation was cut short by the bell ringing so we shuffled into class. I felt unbelievable relieved my friends had forgiven me but I was equally worried about my Dad. Then there was Red John to consider... my mind really was too tired to be dealing with all this! Stupid math equations, they kept rearranging themselves into wobbly green lines like in the heart monitor thing.

"Are you okay Patrick?" Teresa whispered to me worridly, "you keep spacing out there."

"Just tired mixed with a dash of worry. Pinch me if I fall asleep."

"Will do."

I continued to attempt my work but my mind was too clogged with thought. What was I gonna do about John? Do I turn him in? Would they even believe me? Would John kill me if I did turn him in? Or would he kill Teresa? Would he try and kill my Dad again?

I tried not to think about him as we moved into the next lesson but failed miserably. Would he try and kill my Dad at the hospital? Would Minelli arrest me? What about Hannah, should I tell Teresa about the cancer? So many questions I couldn't answer.

I shook my head and turned my attention back to my work attempting to concentrate. That was odd, I thought as the page started bleeding. It absorbed the letters until all that was left was a bloody smiley face, it started to laugh at me...

My eyes snapped open in panic and I glanced around at the classroom. I let out a relieved breath then a groan. What the hell was I gonna do?! At least it'd be recess soon.

"Patrick Jane do you realize you were supposed to be working?" my teacher asked intruding on my thoughts.

"Err... yeah."

"So do you think sitting all lesson doing nothing is appropriate?"

"Err... no."

"So why have you done nothing all lesson?"

"I don't really know," I muttered lamely.

"Well you've just lost yourself a recess, congratulations!"

I groaned as the bell sounded for recess as everyone else got up and left. My friends cast me sympathetic glances before leaving. I spent recess writing lines about doing my work but it was better than staying after school. I struggled through the next two classes, Teresa helping me with answers and keeping me awake. Then it was lunch.

I went with my friends to the cafeteria and sat at our table watching the suddenly boring lives of the schoolkids. They seemed so pathetic and trivial compared to my problems. I sighed miserably, I was exhausted yet I couldn't help `reading` the students. I realized how impossible it was to not do so, it would be like saying I am no longer going to see the color blue. Impossible.

"Aren't you gonna get any food?" asked Kimball blunt as ever, I'd missed him. And Grace. And Wayne. And especially Teresa.

"No, I don't have any lunch or money. I didn't really think of it at the hospital," I explained with a yawn.

"You spent the night at the hospital? That must've sucked," added Wayne shoving a spoonful of potato into his mouth.

"Did you sleep?" wondered Grace looking concerned and I shook my head.

"Here," said Teresa giving me one of her sausages.

"You can have my drink, I hate apple juice anyway," Kimball announced handing me the drink.

"You can have my sprouts!" Wayne exclaimed grinning as he hurridly placed them in front of me.

"You're only doing that because you don't like them," pointed out Grace scowling.

"So?"

"So... nevermind. You can have my chocolate muffin," Grace said handing it to me.

I thanked them smiling as I ate my makeshift food. It was great having friends, they were great at cheering you up. Lunch finished and I made it through the last few lessons. The last bell rang and we left the school, I waved goodbye to Kimball, Wayne and Grace before leaving with Teresa to pick up her brothers. Chris excitedly charged over to us and flung his arms around me.

"Oh yay Patrick! You're friends with Tessie again! Yippee! I missed you so much and I missed your meatloaf and your soups and your pork chops and..."

"Yes Chris we get it, you missed his cooking!" exclaimed Matt joining us as we laughed at Chris' speech.

"Are we going to have meatloaf tonight Patrick? Pretty please?" begged Chris jumping up and down. I wished I had his energy I could literally sleep where I stood.

"Sorry Chris, I have to visit my Dad at the hospital," I explained feeling nervous. Would he be alive when I got there?

"Your Dad's in hospital?" Chris muttered in surprise before his expression darkened, "I hate him, he is so evil."

"Chris!" snapped Teresa.

"What?" he moaned sulkily.

"What are we talking about?" asked James as he finally joined us.

"Patrick's Dad being in hospital," explained Chris, "isn't he evil?"

"It doesn't matter! He's still my Dad and I'm still going to see him," I announced exasperated as we headed reluctantly in the correct direction.

"What's wrong with him?" questioned James.

"Maybe god made him sick as punishment for being so cruel."

"Chris!" snapped Teresa again.

"We're here," Matt informed us...


	37. Chapter 37: Good Things and Bad Things

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **100+ reviews! Wow I cannot believe it, seriously thanks so much! Glad to know you like this story :) This chapter is way longer than it should be but I don't think you'll mind. Special thanks to Dr Kevorkian, tigerlily 124, No more darkness (well done for reading 36 chapters in one go!), jisbon-sessed and jisbon 14 for reviewing :)

I took a deep breath before leading the Lisbons into the hospital, they stayed in the waiting room while I found my way to my Dad's room. To my immense relief he was now propped up in bed grumpily flicking TV stations. I let out a relieved breath as I saw him. I walked over to his bed and he finally glanced at me.

"Well hello Pat, nice of you to finally make an appearance," he announced in his usual manner.

"Hi Dad," I muttered nervously, "how are you feeling?"

"How do you think?" he snorted in reply, "some psycho maniac stabs me and now I'm stuck in a bleedin' hospital!"

"At least your alive," I mumbled quietly.

"Pat, don't be so melodramatic," he snapped irritably rolling his eyes at me, "if I wanted to die I'd be dead wouldn't I?"

"Why are you so mad at me? If I hadn't found you then you would be... dead," I answered feeling slightly hurt he was being so mean to me when I was just pleased he was alive.

"I'm mad at you Pat because some bloody fed was talking to me, he accused me of abusing you and then said he thought you were the one who stabbed me!"

"You don't really think I stabbed you?" I exclaimed in shock, his face was expressionless as he studied me.

"Did you?" he said eventually.

"No! I came home and found you like that, I swear. You really think I'd attack you? You're my Dad, I love you," I answered tearfully, not bothering to mask my hurt. How could he think I'd stab him? He looked carefully at me for a minute before sighing.

"I know Pat, you're not the violent type. I'm tired, I think I'll sleep now," he added.

"You're tired?" I muttered bitterly half to myself, he didn't even know the meaning of the word. When was the last time I'd slept? I shook my head as I went to say goodbye to him but he was already snoring loudly. Sighing I rejoined the Lisbons.

"Is he okay?" asked Teresa conversationally.

"He seems much better," I answered and forced a smile, "he's be back to his old self in no time."

"You mean angry and cruel and will hit you some more?" Chris inquired innocently.

"Chris! Be nice okay?" Teresa snapped immediately defensive.

"If I be nice will Patrick cook us meatloaf for dinner?" he replied just as sweetly and I couldn't help chuckle slightly.

We were soon on our way to their house. It felt good to be back there as I started on the meatloaf as was Chris' request. I enjoyed the playful banter with Teresa, I had really missed this and thankfully I did actually manage to prevent her from burning anything.

"Yummy meatloaf Patrick!" Chris informed me happily.

"Yeah, when Teresa cooks you're lucky if it's not burnt," James agreed.

"I was partially afraid I would die of food poisoning," added Matt.

"Okay, okay, I get it my cooking sucks can we not make a big deal of it?" moaned Teresa causing us all to laugh. Yes I had definately missed this.

Chris volunteered to do the dishes and James wisely offered to help him, just to make sure there was some dinner plates left for tomorrow. Teresa and I worked on our homework, by worked I mean she gave me the answers because I was too tired and distracted to focus. How could I concentrate with John...?

"You really are tired Patrick," Teresa stated as we put our books away.

"Yeah, I really am beat," I agreed and we both flinched at the word, I was still sore too, "I should probably be going home."

"Won't it be taped off by cops?"

"Err... yeah actually..." I mumbled in agreement, "what am I going to do now?"

"Don't whine Patrick you can stay here of course," she informed me brightly with a smile.

"Thanks Teresa, you're the best," I said also smiling, my grin became sly as I added, "well except at cooking."

"Patrick!" she moaned as we exploded into gales of laughter.

"What you guys laughing at?" asked Chris from the doorway, tilting his head curiously to one side.

"Oh nothing Chris," Teresa answered swiftly, "come on let's get you ready for bed," she told him getting up and leading him away.

I stood up and stretched while she was gone before wandering out of her room and aimlessly about the house. James was in his room, strecthed out on his bed as he listened to music while reading a comic. Matt was also in his room, sitting at his desk playing with little toy soliders. I envied them in a way, my Dad never allowed me comics or toys.

I continued my drifting and found Chris snuggled comfortably into his bed, Teresa sat beside him reading him a bedtime story. I leaned against the door frame and listened to her voice telling the exciting tale of Green Eggs and Ham, I hadn't heard it since kindergarten.

I hated kindergarten, not only did it mark my first days in school it marked the first time my Dad had seriously beaten me. It was also the start of teasing children as they mocked me spitefully for lack of money or for having a girl's name, whatever took their fancy. By the time they accepted me, we moved. The same thing happened in the next school, and the next and the next. I'd given up on friends by the second grade.

I sighed as Teresa continued the tale, it made me think of Angela. She'd mentioned she always read her youngest son a bedtime story, she'd really loved her kids. I wondered if I'd still be friends with Teresa if she hadn't have died. So many things to consider, so many worries. Maybe that was why I found it so hard to sleep. I smiled as a memory floated gently towards me.

_My Mom held me closely, rocking me gently as she walked up and down. She was singing softly, her musical voice sounded magical as she sang me `Hush, Little baby.`I was half asleep as she gently sang the words._

_"What?" she said suddenly half laughing, my Dad was in the doorway beaming at her. He looked so young and carefree, his clothes were clean and his hair combed. He actually looked presentable for once._

_"Nothing," he answered simply as he continued to smile at us._

Teresa finished the story and kissed Chris goodnight, I slipped away back into her room and slumped to the floor. I put my hands in my pockets and remembered John'd note, I pulled it out and re-read the words already imprinted into my mind. Teresa appeared a few minutes later with a sleeping bag, she threw it in front of me. I was so engrossed in the note, I didn't notice her swiping it from my grasp until it was too late.

"Teresa give it back!" I cried but she was already reading the note. I watched as her smile faded to a look of absolute horror.

"Oh my god, Patrick. R-red John was the one..." she stuttered in shock as she too sank to the floor beside me, "he killed Sam's family."

"He said..." I was going to be honest with her I decided as I forced the words from my mouth, "his foster siblings picked on him and the baby cried at night... he said they deserved it for bothering him and he Sam's Dad would have tried to stop him."

"That is just... and Mick because of his insults," Teresa mumbled numbly as she absorbed the information, "he killed his own mother and so many others..."

"I know! It's a total nightmare and in his twisted mind we're friends, he thinks he's protecting me."

"How long have you known?"

"That he's a murderer? Awhile. That he attacked my Dad? Not until I saw the note when I tried to call for help."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"Who would believe me? Would they think I had something to do with it?"

"They already think you have something to do with it!" she protested, "why didn't you tell me?"

"You were sort of mad at me," I explained.

"Before that?"

"I hoped I was wrong... would you even have believed me? Besides I was scared. Now I'm even more scared," I added as an afterthought and silence descended.

"Goodnight," called Matt as poked his head through the door, we muttered goodnight back and he left.

"Does everyone usually go to bed this early?" I wondered absently.

"Dad's less likely to beat us," she said simply and then sighed, "do you remember when you were a normal kid? A few months ago my only worries were homework, being embarrassed by my brothers, that I didn't have any best friends... remember those days?"

"No."

"Whereas now... I have to take care of my brothers, protect them from my Dad, worry about Red John..."

"I'm sorry," I told her guiltily, "if you'd never met me your life would still be normal."

"Don't talk like that Patrick," she informed me seriously, "I don't regret meeting you."

"Night Tess, Patrick," James said from the doorway before moving away.

"We should probably be going to bed too," Teresa muttered, "unless we want fresh bruises."

She grabbed her PJs and left the room, presumably to go get changed. I rolled out the sleeping bag and stripped to my undies, I didn't have any PJs with me or a change of clothes come to think of it. Teresa reappeared as I wriggled into the sleeping bag, she turned off the light and clambered into her oen bed.

"What are we going to do Patrick? About Red John?" she whispered into the darkness.

"Worry about it in the morning," I replied sleepily, my eyelids drooping.

"Did you brush yout teeth?"

"I don't have a toothbrush with me."

"Use mine."

"But I'm comfy," I moaned drowsily shifting into a more comfortable position.

"Fine let your teeth rot."

"Fine I will."

I heard her giggling in the darkness and I smiled before my exhaustion finally took me, dragging me down into a dreamless sleep...

*****

I was awakened as I felt something jabbing my in the back. Groaning I rolled to see Chris poking me with a toy sword.

"Yes?"

"Tessie says it's time to get up," he informed me brightly, "so get up!"

I groaned again as he scampered off. Sighing I forced myself to get dressed, it was actually hard considering myself wanted to climb back into that lovely peace. I was still tired but at least I had actually slept for once. I joined the Lisbons in the kitchen for breakfast, ceral. I was surprised to see a hungover Dan also eating some ceral. They were all seated already at the table, but Teresa had saved me the seat beside her.

"Who are you?" growled Dan glaring at me.

"Patrick Jane, I'm Teresa's friend. We met befor-"

"Yeah, I remember," he continued without removing his frosty stare, "why are you eating breakfast with my family?"

"I invited him for a sleepover," Teresa put in defensively.

"Cuz his Dad's in hospital," added Chris bravely, Dan just grunted and we resumed our silent breakfast.

Well silent except for Dan's groans of pain from his hangover. Bastard, I thought, he was annoyed by a little headache when he had hospitalized his five year old son by beating him half to death with a fire poker! I'd never had a hangover but it had to be pathetic in comparison.

"Is your Dad called Alex?" Dan demanded suddenly.

"Err... yeah."

"I know him, met him at the bar a couple of times. Guy's a total jerk!" snapped Dan then moaned and clutched his head, "what did I do to deserve this?"

"You got drunk," I informed him. His eyes immediately snapping up to resume glaring silently at me with those stones of hatred he had for eyes.

We finished our ceral as fast as we could and then almost ran out of the house for school. We walked for the most part in silence, we dropped off her brothers but still arrived on time. Grace and Wayne were already there, sitting on the wall holding hands again.

"They're good together," Teresa observed.

"Yeah," I agreed, she was right.

"Ever think of asking anyone out?" Teresa inquired giving me a weird look I was not accostumed to.

"No," I scoffed and she rolled her eyes at me, "why? Do you?"

"Sometimes," she shrugged walking over to them. I felt an odd surge of jealousy as I followed her, why was I jealous? We were just friends after all, best friends. I should be happy for her if she wanted a boyfriend. But I wasn't.

"Who?" I half asked, half demanded.

"Oh no one in particular," she answered slyly, I could tell she was lying.

"What are we talking about?" Kimball questioned bluntly as he completed our group.

"Teresa's crush," I said as calmly as I could, who did she have a crush on? I had to know, "so who?"

"I do not have a crush on anyone!" Teresa protested.

"Just someone," Grace announced ignoring Teresa's protest as they looked at me curiously.

"Why, jealous?" grinned Wayne.

"No!" I protested feeling my cheeks going red, "just curious..."

Luckily I was saved by the bell and they seemed to have dropped the matter by recess. I found it easier to concentrate on my lessons today now I felt more sure about my Dad being okay. I was still curious about Teresa's crush though. The rest of the day passed unevently, unless you count them giving me food again as eventful.

After school Teresa and I picked up her brothers again before heading straight to the hospital again. They waited in the waiting room while I went to see my Dad. I went to the same room but it was empty. I felt my heart clench painfully. My Dad wasn't there...


	38. Chapter 38: Rising Anger

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Okay an imprortant note that I forgot to put in the last chapter, one of Teresa's brothers is called Tommy but I didn't know that when I started this so do you want me to go back and change one of the names to Tommy or do you mind if I just leave them as they are? Anyway thanks to Silver Moon (well done for reading 37 chapters in one night!), No more darkness, rigspeltforeverxx and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :)

I suddenly felt shaky on my legs as I walked over to the empty stripped bed. He'd been fine yesterday... he'd been fine. I felt tears falling from my eyes as I studied the empty bed. I just stared transfixed at the pristine white sheets, my mind was suddenly to numb to think.

"Pat it's just an empty bed, stop being such a cry baby," complained a familiar voice.

I spun at the sound of my Dad's gruff voice and saw him walking towards me scowling. I ran at him and flung my arms around it as I was enveloped by relief, I know he didn't like being hugged but I wanted to make sure he was actually there and not a hallucination I was having from lack of sleep.

"Pat come on enough with the affection," he moaned.

"I'm so glad your alive Dad, I love you," I told him as I pulled away, "I was so scared that you were dead..... please don't die Dad," I begged as I choked back sobs.

"Oh Pat," he sighed rolling his eyes but bent down and hugged me gently.

"I love you Dad, please don't die," I repeated closing my eyes, "please."

"I'm not gonna die Pat okay? Calm down, its okay, I'm okay," my Dad's comforting words sounding odd with his voice. He pulled away and wiped away my tears, "now quit with the crying."

"Okay," I muttered taking a deep breath. He nodded and stood up, he grabbed something off the bedside table before walking back over to me.

"Come on, let's go Pat."

"What about my friends?"

"What about 'em?"

"I usually go over to there house after school... they're in the waiting room waiting for me."

"That's why they're called waiting rooms Pat. Don't state the obvious you're like 10 already."

"11 actually."

"Really?" he actually looked surprised by that, "so why are they here?"

"I didn't think they'd let you go so soon."

"They didn't I discharged myself."

"Is that really safe?" I inquired to which he just snorted and muttered something about hating hospitals.

"What do you usually do at your friends house anyway?"

"Well... I make dinner and then I do my homework with Teresa."

"Teresa? Annella's kid."

"Angela," I informed him tiredly before he slapped me.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't care what her bloody name is?"

"Why don't you care what her name is?"

"Why should I?"

"You were... romantically involved with her."

"We had sex Pat, doesn't mean I give a damn what her name was. I don't even give a damn that she died."

"Well maybe you should," I snapped, instantly regretting it as his eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because... people are supposed to care about one another," I answered lamely attempting to find the right words.

"`People are supposed to care about one another` bullshit! Grow up already Pat! It's better not to care about anyone at all. Now just come on, I'll buy you and those kids some dinner then we can go home."

I reluctantly nodded and followed him out into the waiting room where the others waited. They were playing eye spy before my Dad announced we were leaving, they stood up and followed him outside as he led us through the town. We walked in realitive silence to McDonalds, even Chris although he did glare at the back of my Dad's head the whole time. He ordered us all happy meals while we sat at a table.

"Nice to see your Dad's okay," James muttered conversationally.

"Well I'm not," Chris informed us stubbornly.

"Chris! For the last time be nice," Teresa scolded frowning at him.

"Listen to your sister kid, `don't bit the hand that feeds,`" my Dad growled coming back with the food causing the young child to jump. He placed the food in front of us and we dug in ravenously.

"What do you mean `don't bite the hand that feeds?`" Chris asked after awhile, "I wasn't biting you. Only animals bit not children, that's what Mommy used to say."

"Well firstly your Mommy's dead so it doesn't matter what she said," my Dad answered coldly, "and secondly it means don't piss me off or you'll get no bloody food. Honestly Pat, kids these days."

"If we piss you off won't you just hit us?" retorted Chris and we all went still.

"Chris don't swear," Teresa chided quietly.

"Yeah Chris don't swear, didn't your Mommy teach you not to swear?" my Dad added nastily.

"You just said it doesn't matter what she said," Chris pointed out.

"What are you my biographer?" my Dad snapped, I could see him struggling to control his temper, "just shut up and eat the bloody food."

"Your not a nice person are you?" Chris pressed unhappily as he glared at my Dad.

"Look Andrea's kid-"

"Angela," I stated causing my Dad to cast me a dark look.

"You knew my Mommy too?" Chris exclaimed shocked.

"Yes I did and she thought I was a nice person, so why can't you just shut the hell up and the bleedin' food I paid for."

Chris was actually stunned into silence as he ate the rest of his food. We finished the meal and left the restaurant, following Dad to... wherever he was going. I didn't exactly want to irk him further by asking where we were headed, Chris however had no such plans.

"Are you sure Mommy liked you?" he asked eventually and I saw my Dad roll his eyes.

"Yes I am sure, now quit with the fucking questions already or I'll make you," Dad snarled in reply, Chris still didn't take the hint to shut up.

"That's what I mean, why would Mommy like someone who hits children?" Chris continued. My Dad just stopped and turned to face him.

"Pat is my son and I can do whatever the hell I want with him!"

"But I'm not," Chris pointed out bravely, Dad clenched his fists and gave Chris a venonous look before, ever so slowly continuing walking.

"Pat did you steal anymore money or is it all still in the house where the cops could take it?"

"I didn't steal any money," I protested mildly, he just snorted in reply.

"He really didn't. I took the money," Chris announced before any of us could react my Dad struck him squarely in the jaw. Chris fell hard onto the ground and started crying.

"Dad please just leave him, he's five," I pleaded standing between them. He locked his angry gaze with mine, for a minute I thought he would hit me but the anger slowly dulled in his eyes.

"Hello," said a sadistically sinister voice I recognized. Teresa and I turned to see John watching us...


	39. Chapter 39: Red John's Reasoning

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Firstly I apologize for the really late update, one word for you: homework, don't you just hate it?! Secondly thanks so much to Nelliethemarvelous, Dr Kevorkian, No more darkness, .Caskett, Silver Moon, tigerlily124 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) so many reviews! Thanks so much :) Sort of creepy chapter this though, hope you like...

My mind burned with panic as I saw the murderer walking causually towards us. My treacherous legs threatened to buckle as I moved between him and the others, I glanced at my Dad who was staring intently at John with a puzzled expression as if trying to place him. I didn't know whether too be glad or worried at his failure to recall his attacker.

"Another one of your friends Pat?" my Dad wondered still with an expression of bemusement.

"Sort of... I'll go get rid off him," I answered closing the gap between myself and John, "go on without me!"

"I'll help you!" added Teresa joining me as we reached him.

He tilted his head to one side and studied us with a blank expression, his body language was neutral but his eyes had an angry tinge to them. I was waiting for him to speak, I wasn't going to initiate the conversation with my Dad and Teresa's brothers so close. John must have been waiting for them to leave too as he didn't speak until they had rounded the bend.

"I see your Dad survived," he said levelly.

"No thanks to you!" I spat angrily at him, "you tried to KILL my own father, what the hell John?!"

"He's abusing you! Patrick, I have to protect you," John answered seriously.

"You're psychotic," Teresa muttered looking wide eyed at John's openess.

"Just shut up Teresa," he snapped, "this has absolutely nothing to do with you and besides I am far better at protecting people than you are."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Teresa retorted looking offended.

"At least I'm trying to defend my friend," he informed her, "you let Patrick's Dad punch him, you let him be hospitalized, you let your Dad beat him," John sneered and I saw the hurt in her eyes.

"Leave her alone John, you don't know anything," I snarled defensively.

"Yes I do Patrick. I know lots of things," John said sreepily with an edge of iciness than made me shiver.

"Just leave me, my Dad and my friends alone," I told him trying to sound forceful.

"I don't think so Patrick. I have to kill your Dad, not only is he abusing you but he survived my attack," John's tone abruptly changed from conversational to barely contained anger, "how dare he live after I left him to die. How dare he!"

"If you don't leave Patrick alone we're gonna go to the police," Teresa announced bravely folding her arms but John seemed unfazed, on the contrary he smiled that twisted smile.

"Oh really Teresa? I know where you live. Close to the old Bosco house, your brothers are so young and defenseless," John's smile widened as she stiffined, "you also have some grandparents I believe? Old people are so... fragile."

"Leave my family alone!" Teresa screamed at him.

"Okay," John continued as his smile just widened, "you have friends? Grave Van Pelt, Kimball Cho and Wayne Rigsby... plenty of people I can kill," he told her and his eyes seemed to radiate darness as he said the last.

"Just leave her alone John, okay? Please just leave them all alone, just stop with the killing. Turn yourself in, get some help," I pleaded, my anger completely replaced by fear.

"Help?" he answered confused while his smile vanished.

"Help. Like psychiatric help, I know they suck but you clearly have issues that you need to deal with," I continued nervously.

"I have issues?! Damn straight!" John roared furiously, "but I can deal with them by myself along with my good friend the knife," his angry tone was chilling while his eyes writhed with loathing, "I cut her with the blade, no matter how much she begged for mercy and then I let her die like she let him hurt me just to save her own worthlessly selfish skin. I wanted to kill him to Patrick, you have no idea how much I wanted to kill him! I fantasized about it for months, I still do."

"And you say you're fine?" Teresa muttered half to herself.

"If you think I'm evil Teresa, you should have met him. The things he did to me... I still have scars, I'll always have scars," John continued quietly and I noticed tears stinging his eyes before the anger rushed back, "he took that chance away from me though, he'd taken everything else from me, why not the chance to kill him? He blew his brians out. Who would have thought the big strong bastard was actually just a snivelling coward?"

"My Dad isn't your Dad, John. If you really think you're my friend you won't kill the only family I have."

"Patrick, you are so blind you cannot see he has to die!" John screeched, "I have to kill him now, I have to. No one gets away with mocking me, no one!"

"How did he mock...?"

"He survived! How dare he survive?! I couldn't beleive it at first that's why I came here now to see if it was true and it is," John continued cloaking each word in venom, "I have to kill him Patrick, he is going to pay. I am going to kill him and there's nothing either of you can do to stop me..."


	40. Chapter 40: Red John's Revenge

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to tigerlily124, JisbonvsCaskett , rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed and SSA Silver Moon for reviewing :) I really appreciate it. Hope you like the chapter...

"By the weekend Patrick, you will be free," John continued smiling, "you will thank me in the end, there can be no light without darkness."

With that John spun and walked away into the dark dusk. I let out a cold breath and stared after him shakily as I was engulfed by anxiety. What the hell was I gonna do?!

"Come on Patrick," Teresa said suddenly grabbing my hand, "we've gotta go to the cops now," she added as she sprinted away in the opposite direction half dragging me with her.

"Why now?" I asked, "can't we at least tell my Dad where we're going?"

"No, Patrick!" came her reply, "I have to do it now before I chicken out," she stopped running suddenly to which I was grateful as it gave me time to catch my breath. She turned to face me and I saw tears welling in her eyes, "I'm scared Patrick, I've never been scared like this before."

"I know, I'm scared too," I admitted hesitantly, "I don't know what I'll do if I lose my Dad, I know he seems mean sometimes but he's still my Dad and he's the only family I have," I gulped down some terrifed tears, "I'm sorry I got you mixed up in all this."

"I'm sorry you got mixed up in all this, at least I have my brothers and grandparents," Teresa apologized giving me a sympathetic look, "you really have no other family?"

"My Mom had no family, I don't really know about my Dad's family but he never mentions them and I never ask... I guess the carnies are sort of my family in a way but..." I just shook my head and became aware she was still holding my hand, "let's go, the faster we get to Minelli the less time John has to..."

"Kill people?" Teresa finished my sentance looking miserable.

"I was gonna think of something nicer than that but yeah... what if they don't believe us?"

"We have the note and anyone who spends five minutes with him can see he's..."

"Crazy?"

"I was gonna think of a nicer way to say it but yeah. Come on Patrick," Teresa answered and continued to run.

Teresa was leading (I didn't know where the cops hung out anyway) as we darted through the streets I was becoming more worried about my Dad. If John hadn't killed him he'd be pretty mad at me, but at least he'd be alive. I hoped he was alive. Finally Teresa pulled to a hault outside a crumbling old building, at first I was doubtful to what it was until I noticed the police cars scattered around outside it.

"Ready?" Teresa inquired.

"No," I answered truthfully but she led me inside anyway.

We were quickly taken to see Minelli and we told him everything that John had told us, he'd looked doubtful until we'd shown him the note, then he seemed to believe us. We both had to write down statements for him while Minelli announced he was going to talk to John. He offered us a lift but we said we'd walk.

"That was easier than I expected," she informed me nervously as we began walking down the stretch of road.

"Yeah, I guess. Assuming my Dad and your brothers are still alive," I mutter bitterly, "where are we going exactly? I don't know where my Dad was going."

"Neither do I," Teresa agreed and we both laughed slightly.

"We should try your house, maybe your brothers led him there."

"I hope your Dad hasn't beaten them."

"He doesn't usually unless he has a reason. Let's hope Chris hasn't annoyed him any more than he already has."

Our conversation dwindled as we trudged through the winding streets, if I hadn't been so apprehensive about John, Dad and her brothers I might have even said we were having a plesant stroll. We reached the Lisbon house and felt relief upon seeing my Dad slumped lazily on the couch with a beer in his hand.

"And where the hell did you too you?" he snapped angrily.

"The police," I offered and his body tensed.

"The police?" he repeated looking stunned.

"Yeah, we know who attacked you. We went to tell Minelli," Teresa told him, "where are my brothers?"

"In their rooms," my Dad said dismissively, "how can you who attacked me? I can't even remember it," he continued as Teresa wandered down the corridor.

"He confessed to us so we told the cops," I answered feeling nervous.

"Pat, those jokers couldn't catch a cold and what the hell were you doing talking to them anyway?! You're supposed to avoid cops Pat. A-V-O-I-D cops not run towards them!"

"But he said he'd kill you," I said quietly and his anger seemed to tame but was not forgotten. Our conversation was ruined by the phone ringing, I answered it.

"_Patrick is that you_?" came Hannah's voice down the line.

"Yeah. What's up?" I replied frowning, her tone sounded odd, like something was wrong.

"_I need to speak to Teresa_," she said still with that odd tone.

"Would you like me to put her on the line?" I asked and then it hit me, she probably wanted to tell her about the cancer, "I don't think you should tell her over the phone," I whispered.

"_What? No, of course not... I need to see her in person, bring her to my house. She- she knows where it is_," Hannah answered nervously, that must be what was wrong. She was just worried about telling her grandkids she was dying. Nothing to do with John.

"Okay. Do you want her brothers to come to?"

"_No. Just her... and you_."

"Me? Why?"

"_Suppor_t," she offered. I wished I was talking to her face to face, that sounded like a lie.

"How did your husband take it?" I said instead, it wasn't polite to accuse a dying woman of lying. Especially not one who had recently lost her daughter.

"_He... err... I'll tell you when you get here. Come quickly_," she pleaded.

"Okay," I agreed slowly.

"_In case I'm not alive when you get her... please tell her that I love her and her brothers and my husband. I love them all so much, please tell them that_," she answered and I could tell she was crying.

"Hannah, are you okay?"

"_Just tell them Patrick please, your a good kid... and get here soon_," she told me before hanging up. How odd.

"Who was it?" questioned my Dad and Teresa at the same time, she had come back into the family room.

"Your grandmother."

"What she want?" Teresa inquired curiously as my Dad just snorted and turned back to the TV.

"To see you at her house now, and she wanted me to come too."

"That's a bit weird," Teresa said mirroring my scowl.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"You're not gonna go? Pat, I forbid it," my Dad announced stubbornly.

"But..."

"Oh let him come Mr Jane, please?" Teresa pleaded, "you can stay here if you do."

"Firstly call me Alex, I hate being called by last name-"

"Why?" I interrupted.

"Pat are you a psychic or a moron?" he snapped and I fell silent, " secondly I can stay here if I want, its not like a bunch of kids could over power me."

Teresa and I exchanged looks, he had no idea a kid had been the one to nearly kill him. I attempted not to shiver at the memory of finding him injured, the smiley face then at the hospital...

"I'll show you where Dad keeps the beer," Teresa volunteered and I saw my Dad straighten up and smile.

"Deal," he agreed.

Teresa showed him the stashed beer before saying goodbye to her brothers and following me outside. She immediately started off in what I assumed was the correct direction. We walked for the most part in silence, Teresa wondering what her grandmother wanted to say to her and me not wanting to tell her about the cancer before Hannah could.

It was fully dark by the time we reached the correct house. It was a pleasant house, exactly what I'd expected. We walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. It sang out a little tune but no one answered. We waited and tried it again, nothing. We rapped on the door, still nothing but the lights were still on inside.

"Patrick, what if she's hurt?" Teresa said anxiously.

"Don't worry, I can pick locks remember?"

"I don't know, isn't it sort of illegal?"

"What if she'd hurt?" I mimicked her words and she reluctantly nodded.

It took me seconds only after she'd agreed before I'd picked the lock. Gently I pushed the door open and went inside, noting the many pictures of Angela, Teresa, James, Matt and Chris along with black-and-white photos of people resembling them in some way. It was quite pleasant really, a pleasant home for pleasant people. I longed to have a family like that.

Then I noticed the note pinned to the door directly in front of us down the end of the hallway. I felt my pulse race as I read the words on it:

_Dear Teresa,_

_I told you what I would do if you called the cops, I did warn you but you ignored me and now I'm a fugitive. I hope this makes you realize the error in your ways, and for turning Patrick against me. You are lucky the husband didn't come home in time but I'm discovering women are more fun to kill._

_-Red John_

I pushed open the door and saw the crimson smile looking back at me.

This time it was too late.


	41. Chapter 41: Phone Calls

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Not sure if I like this chapter or not, you have been warned. Thanks so much to tigerlily124, JisbonvsCaskett , rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed and SSA Silver Moon for reviewing :) I really appreciate it. Hope you like the chapter...

I was again mesmerized by the bloody face on the wall. I hated it so much. It was still wet, I could tell from here. The smile was as chilling as the still air wrapping its icy tendrils around us. I realized it was because the front door was still open but couldn't move. I couldn't look away from that smile.

A whimper dragged my thoughts back slightly more into the realms of reality. It was Teresa. I glanced at her and noticed her shoulders shaking, she was crying, crying for er grandmother Hannah. My legs finally managed to regain movement. I took a step towards her and placed my hand on her shoulder.

She turned slowly to face me, her eyes awash with tears. I hugged her gently and listened to her sobbing on my shoulder as I continued my staring contest with the bloody face. How many more people was he going to kill? That thought caused my insides to churn with dread. Hannah wasn't the only one he's threatened.

"Teresa," I whispered to her pulling away, "I know this sounds cruel but I have to make a phone call, okay?"

"To who?" she demanded attempting to wipe away tears.

"Hannah wasn't the only person he threatened," I stated bluntly, it sounded colder than I intended but then I felt the cold. It had seeped through my skin and settled deep into my bones. I surpressed a shiver.

"Oh my god, you're right Patrick! My brothers, your father, Grace, Kimball, Wayne..." she broke off and ran to the phone, she picked it up and punched in a number before angrily slamming it back down, "he cut the phone lines!"

"It's okay, we can warn them in person," I told her feeling slightly impressed by how calm my voice was.

"I-I know where Kimball lives and my own home but I can't remember where Wayne or Grace lives! I can't reme-"

"It's okay, I remember where Wayne's house is and I'm sure he knows where Grace lives..." I talked scowling inwardly at the idea of splitting up but time was a factor.

"Okay Patrick, that's a good plan," she agreed taking a deep breath.

"Okay then, let's go," I announced as I stalked over to the door with Teresa on my heels.

"Are you sure we should split up?" she asked quietly.

"No but we can cover more ground that way... look how fast John acts."

"Okay Patrick, just be careful okay?" she pleaded hugging me again.

"You too okay?" I replied before we both set off in different directions.

I ran through the darkness hoping everyone would be alive. I tried not to think of the crimson faces smiling at their lifeless corpses. I tried not to think of their familiar faces contorted into expressions of pain like Hannah or with their open mouths and staring eyes like Angela. Obviously I was failing.

I found Wayne's address and hammered on the door panting for breath as little Erin opened it. She was wearing a broad grin resembling Wayne's, she didn't seem under duress or injured. I felt relief at the thought the rest of the Rigsby's were probably okay too.

"Hi Patrick," she said happily, "I remember you, you're Wayne's psychic friend that went to my Daddy's bike bar and beat everyone at poker."

"Yes, I am. Can yo-"

"Erin! Who's at the door?!" yelled Wayne.

"Patrick Jane!"

"I'm coming!"

"Okay!" Erin screamed back as Wayne appeared beside her.

"Hey Patrick, what's up?" Wayne inquired with a bemused expression, "you don't want to play poker again do you? Dad's out of town at the moment an-"

"It's not that," I interrupted, "just be careful a serial killer may be after you so lock the doors, windows, try not to eat anything that might've been poisone-"

"Whoa, hold on a sec! What do you mean a serial killer?"

"What's a serial killer?" added Erin.

"Doesn't matter just trust me okay? Please and whatever you do, if you see John run!"

"Why Patrick? I don't understan-"

"I don't have time to argue! Do you know where Grace lives? I have to warn her too."

"I can just call her," Wayne offered still looking dumbfounded.

"Do it!" I exclaimed and he led me inside and dialled a phone number.

"Hey Grace, its Wayne... no I can't really talk... I think Patrick's having a mental breakdown or something... he says a serial killer may be after you so be careful..."

"And avoid John!" I hissed.

"And avoid John..." Rigsby repeated rolling his eyes.

"Good, now hang up and call Minelli," I cut in swiftly, "tell him to go to Teresa's grandmother's house. Tell him Red John killed her. Tell hi-"

"Whoa! Red John killed Teresa's grandmother?! When did that happen?" wondered a shocked Wayne.

"Not long ago. Hey can you call Kimball please?"

"Sorry Grace I gotta go and please be careful by the sound of things," Wayne gulped nervously as he spoke before hanging up and punching in another number, "hey Mrs Cho, it's Wayne... Kimball's friend, can I talk to him?... he's with a friend, can I talk to him anyway?... hi Kimball..." Wayne began before I snatched the phone from his hand.

"Kimball its Patrick, has Teresa warned you yet?"

"_Yeah. Is all that stuff really true_?"

"Yeah it is. Can you put her on the phone please?"

"_Patrick_?" came Teresa's voice over the line.

"I cannot tell you how relieved I am to hear your voice."

"_Same_."

"I've warned Wayne and Grace, they're fine. You?"

"_Kimball is fine but I don't know about my brothers or your Dad. How did you get to Grace and Wayne so fast?"_

"Telephone."

"_Oh, why didn't I think of that_?" she grumbled.

"Okay so we hang up, I'll call Minelli, you call your house then we ring each other back?"

"_Okay," _Teresa agreed before hanging up. Immediately I slipped Minelli's card out of my pocket and dialled the number.

"_Minelli_," came his gruff reply.

"It's me Patrick Jane."

"_Why are you calling_?"

"You haven't caught Red John yet have you?"

"_Not yet... why_?"

"Remember how he threatened people? He followed through with his threat. Teresa's grandmother is dead," I explained with a heavy heart, I could hear it thundering rapidly in my chest. At least I knew I was alive, although everything would probably be better off without me.

"_DAMN_!" Minelli snapped furiously down the line, "_he ran away from his foster home when we went to arrest him. Damn!"_

"Wayne Rigsby, Grace Van Pelt and Kimball Cho are fine... for now," I added with a crushing bitterness.

"_That's some good news at least, I'll sent protection details over to their houses ASAP. How about the others? Do you know about them_?"

"Teresa's checking on her brothers and my Dad now, I'm calling her back after you and her grandfather is MIA but according to John's note he's alive because he couldn't find him."

"_I'll put out a broadcast for him and I'll send someone over to the Lisbon house, where's your father_?"

"Watching Teresa's brothers. I'm gonna call Teresa now," I announced hanging up and started to punch in the numbers before the phone rang. I answered it.

"_Hello Patrick_," said Red John...


	42. Chapter 42: Your Choice

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Wow so many reviews! Thank you :) to rigspeltforeverxx, jisbonvscaskett, jisbon-sessed, tigerlily124, No more darkness, Dr Kevorkian and SSA Silvermoon :) makes me smile to know you guys like this, I wrote that last chapter so quickly which is why I wasn't sure about it. No one has died... yet, but Red John is still pretty evil in this. If you're lucky you may get another update today ;)

"John," I said eventually when my mouth started to work again, I could barely hear my own voice over the frantic pounding of my heart.

"_I take it you've met Teresa's grandmother_?" his mocking voice asked.

"Yes. John you bastard! She was innocent, she never did anything to you!" I screamed furiously at him.

"I_ told Teresa I'd kill her and I make a point of keeping my word. She had to pay for her granddaughter's mistakes,_" John replied calmly.

"Minelli is going to find you," I informed him trying to keep my voice calm.

"_Patrick, you should be nicer to me. Unless that is, you don't want Teresa to loose her brothers too."_

"What do you mean?! What have you done?!" I yelled down the phone as I felt my stomach clenching tightly.

"_Nothing yet. Tell him Chris_."

"_P-Patrick_?" Chris asked quietly, his voice choked with tears.

"Chris! Are you okay?"

"_Patrick I'm scared!" _he wailed , "_R-Red John had... had a kn-knife a-a-a-t my n-eck and he-he made us go w-with him and he s-says he's g-go-gonna k-k-kill us_!" Chirs exclaimed before breaking down in sobs.

"He's not gonna kill anyone, everythings gonna be okay," I lied soothingly.

"_A-a-are y-y-you su-sure_?" came his stuttering reply.

"I'm psychic remember? Now try to be brave."

"_That's enough_!" snapped John, "_you have a choice Patrick, who do you want to die?"_

"I don't want anyone to die!" I yelled, secretly I was panicked, "what abput my Dad?"

"_Forget him, this is about Teresa's brothers_," John growled, "_pick one to die_."

"I'm not gonna pick one of her brother's to die!"

"_Then I'll kill them al_l," he stated calmly.

"You wouldn't..." I whispered in disbelief.

I heard John laugh and then the phone must have went to speakphone because background noise became loud. I could hear someone sniffling and then I heard an agonizing scream that pierced the air and continued to ring in my ears even as I heard crying. A wave of nausea swamped me and I had to swallow the disgusting bile rising in my throat.

"_Believe me yet Patrick_?" sneered John.

"What did you do?"

"_Stabbed James. Want to hear me do the same to Chris? Or Matt? Or would you rather just choose who you want me to kill and I'll let the rest go_?"

"Why are you doing this?" I demanded miserably.

"_I told you revenge. I don't want to go to prison or some asylum_," he spat, not bothering to keep the hatred from his voice, "_you have until James dies to decide on who you want to live, Matt or Chris. Or I will kill them all_."

The line went dead.

"Patrick, are you okay?" asked Wayne concerned.

I barely heard him as the phone dropped from my fingers. I was shaking badly and I felt just about ready to throw up. I was going to throw up I realized as I bolted for the bathroom and emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl.

I was still shaking as I flushed and washed my mouth. What was I going to do? What could I do? I held my head in my hands. James' scream still echoing my mind, it was all to easy to picture his body and the smiling face above it.

"Patrick, Teresa wants to talk to you," offered Wayne handing me the phone, he looked paler than he had a minute ago as I took the phone.

"Hello?" I muttered.

"_Patrick! Did he call you? Do you know what he's done_?" Teresa said sounding distraught, "_he stabbed my brother! James is gonna die if we don't do something!"_

"I know!"

"_What are we gonna do_?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

"_Think Patrick, think,_" she commanded desperately.

"What makes you think I can think of something?"

"_You're Patrick Jane, you always have a plan. You're psychic and all that, you have to do something! Patrick please_," she begged and I knew she was tearful.

"There's no such thing as psychics. I don't have a plan. I don't even know where they are!" I protested.

"_You don't need to be psychic, do what you normally do to know everything. You're the only one as smart as him_."

I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to know where they are? Where could he have taken them? my mind prompted. I took a deep breath, there was only a limited about possibilities he was just a kid, with no vehicles and three hostages didn't exactly mean he could travel very far.

Plus the time, it would have taken him about the same time as us to get back to the Lisbon house. My Dad was there so he'd have to either deal with him, I tried not to dwell on that thought, or get them away quietly which took time. Then there was Minelli who said he'd send someone over to the Lisbon house, they'd probably be there by now.

Most likely he'd have to go to some abandoned building. So where, near the Lisbon house was there a deserted building? I smiled suddenly despite everything. I knew where he was.

"He's at the Bosco's old house," I said aloud...


	43. Chapter 43: Red John's Downfall

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and I make no money from this

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to tigerlily124, rigspeltforeverxx, SSA Silver Moon and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) hope you like the chapter, you are gonna hate me for the cliffhanger I leave you on though...

"On my way," Teresa said before I hung up and threw the phone back at Wayne.

I ran. I charged myself forwards into the darkness in the correct direction, James didn't exactly have that long depending on how bad things were. I hoped he could hold on, I didn't want him to die or Matt or Chris. I hoped my Dad was still alive.

"Whoa Patrick, slow down!" gasped Wayne as he appeared by my side, "I had to tell my Mom that I was going."

"Sorry, but I have to hurry," I explained apologetically as I pushed myself harder than I'd ever ran before. Wayne ran silently beside me, I was actually grateful he was there made me feel slightly better.

As we turned into the road with the Bosco's old house I collided with something and fell onto the ground. My eyes darted to see what -or rather who- I'd run into. It was Teresa, I felt a surge of joy at seeing her.

"Patrick!" she exclaimed mirroring my smile as we climbed to her feet. I noticed Kimball beside her, "you sure their in the Sam's old house?"

"As sure as I'll ever be," I panted.

"Wayne get Minelli or one of his cops or something, they're at my house see," Teresa said pointing to the cop car parked in her long dirt driveway.

"Okay bu-"

"Go Wayne, hurry!" she commanded and Wayne reluctantly headed at high speed for her house.

"I take it we're not waiting?" wondered Kimball.

Teresa ignored him as she ran to the house, Kimball and I raced to catch up to her. The door was slightly ajar so she just ran inside with us behind her. There was a red smiley face on the wall, this time I couldn't become transfixed by it as Teresa had already launched herself through a doorway. We followed.

Immediately I knew it was the right house. It was what I guessed had once been the family room, there was no furniture though but there was John. He stood in the middle of the room holding a blade, the silved shone in the darkness as the moonlight cascaded off it. He looked surprised.

Matt and Chris were tied up and gagged in the other corner but they seemed to be alive while James lay in the other corner in a dark pool. I say his chest slowly rising and falling but I knew he needed medical attention. John's surprise turned to outrage as he grabbed Matt and held the knife to his throat.

"I underestimated you," John said half to himself, "do you know this is the first time I drew that smiley face? To show how happy I was at killing them all."

"You're sick," muttered Kimball.

"Let my brother go!" demanded Teresa to which John smiled.

"I don't think so. Patrick have you made your decision?"

"What decision?" interrupted Teresa looking confused.

"He gets to chose who lives and who dies, or I'm gonna kill all three of your brothers," John's smile widened, "you have to pay for calling the cops on me."

"Then why not kill me instead?"

"Don't give him any ideas!" hissed Kimball, "the guy's a total psychopath."

"I do rather like that idea," mused John thoughtfully as he moved closer to Chris.

We stood still and silent as John knelt down beside Chris and cut the ropes, terrified Chris ran towards and threw his arms around Teresa.

"John!" yelled Minelli as he appeared at the window with a gun pointed at him, "let them go, you don't want to do this."

"Chris and Kimball can go," John offered with a sadistic smile of his face, "Patrick, Teresa, you too stay or I kill Matt."

Teresa whispered something to Chris and the small child reluctantly went over to Kimball who took his hand and led him out the door. I let out a breath of relief that they were okay, but we still weren't.

"Is my Dad okay?" my voice asked curiously of Minelli before I could stop myself.

"Err... yeah he was knocked out with some drug but he's alive... now's not really the time," Minelli answered looking puzzled.

"You pigs turned up before I could go back and finish him off," snapped John angrily, "you shouldn't have called them Teresa."

"I'm the one that called them," I corrected surpressing my relief at my Dad being alive. Now all I had to worry about was James, Matt, Teresa and myself, "you said you'd let Matt go," I pointed out.

"You're right I did," agreed John, "you can go Matt."

He moved away his knife hand and Matt scurried hurridly away. Before I could react John lunged at Teresa with the knife and there was a defeaning boom of a gunshot.

Teresa fell shakily against me as John fell backwards onto the floor, he dropped the knife but appeared unhurt as Minelli jumped through the window. In fact John said nothing or did nothing as Minelli cuffed him and led him out. John just stared blankly ahead, face expressionless, eyes hollow.

I shivered slightly as Teresa continued to lean against me breathing raggedly, my own heart was still thundering in my chest as I watched the paramedics come in and take James away on a strecther, at least he was alive. I hoped he'd be OK.

"Want me to ask if you can go with him to the hospital?" I inquired of Teresa.

She pulled away from me and turned to face me, that's when I noticed the wet stuff on my hand. I brought my hand up into the moonlight and say it was blood, but I wasn't bleeding...? I shifted my gaze to Teresa. Her face was ashen as she collapsed against me.

I caught her and gently lowered her to the ground, I knelt beside her craddling her head as I noticed the bloody patch on her side. She's been hit, shot or stabbed I didn't know.

"Help!" I yelled panicked as my calming heartbeat became erratic once again. I looked down at Teresa who I was still half-holding, her face was grave as blood oozed from her side, "HELP!" I screamed.

"P-Patrick... James... is... going... to... be... okay... right?" she asked struggling for each syllable, I forced myself to nod.

"Of course he is," I answered quietly as the tears pooling in my eyes started to fall, "hold on Teresa okay? Hold on? HELP!" I repeated and Minelli appeared beside me.

"Oh my god," he gasped.

"Don't die Teresa, please don't die," I cried, "you're the best friend I've ever had. The best, the very best, d'ya hear?" I murmered shakily.

"PARAMEDICS! I need help over here NOW!" Minelli yelled as he put pressure on the wound, she smiled at me.

"P-Patrick..." she whispered before her eyes fluttered closed.

"NO!" I screamed, "HELP! HELP!"


	44. Chapter 44: Mute

**Disclaimer: **Is there really any point in putting in disclaimers? I mean does Bruno Heller really trawl through fanficiton all day looking for stories with no disclaimers to sue? I'm serious! But for the record I do NOT own the mentalist and I make NO money from this.

**Author's Note: **This chapter's a little weird but Patrick's sort of in shock and it's his POV so yeah sorry if you don't like it. Should have mentioned before but I have decided to keep her brother's names the same as no one seemed to mind. Thanks as always to my readers especially to jisbon-sessed, tigerlily124, JisbonvsCaskett, No more darkness and rigspeltforeverxx for reviewing, you guys are the best! :) Hope you like the chapter...

"Teresa no, please don't be dead," I sobbed miserably, "SOMEBODY HELP!" I screamed again, "please don't die Teresa, please..."

The paramedics finally rushed in and knelt beside her, one of them checked her pulse and announced she was alive. I felt my heart skip a beat, she was alive. She was alive, that's all I heard as they started working at her side.

"Hold on Teresa okay? Please hold on," I begged her desperately blinking away more tears as she was moved onto a stretcher and carried to the ambulance.

"You can't come with us," one of the paramedics was saying, "there's not enough room."

"What's wrong with Tessie?" Chris asked terrified.

"I can't believe I shot her," muttered Minelli.

"Is she gonna be okay Patrick?" wondered Matt.

"What happened in there Patrick?" questioned Wayne.

"Patrick, are you okay?" inquired Kimball.

I barely heard their voices, all I could see was the ambulance close its doors and drive away with Teresa. I could barely even hear the sirens, they were barely whispers in the cold night.

"Patrick, please say something."

"Patrick, are you hurt?

"Patrick, what's wrong?"

"Earth to Patrick anyone home?"

"Patrick, are you listening?"

There voices became more distant, I didn't even know who was speaking. I couldn't bring myself to care, I couldn't even force myself to move. I just stood in the road watching the space where the ambulance had been.

"Patrick..."

"Patrick..."

"Patrick..."

"Patrick..."

"Patrick..."

I stopped listening after they said my name, that was the last thing Teresa had said. I was the last thought she'd ever thought, the last thing she'd ever seen. It made me feel like death. I didn't want her to be dead. She had to be okay.

"Patrick... Patrick... Patrick... Patrick... Patrick..."

Their words just seemed to roll into one and they were just saying Patrick over and over again. Their voices became Teresa's and she was saying my name over and over again as her eyes fluttered closed.

"PATRICK!" yelled Minelli as he grabbed my shoulders.

The physical contact seemed to break me out of my thoughts. I blinked away tears and realized it was actually rain. It was raining. I tried to force my thoughts to coherency.

My legs suddenly seemed incapable of standing and they buckled, if not for Minelli I would have fallen onto the ground. Minelli asked me if I was okay to which I nodded as I stood back up.

"Patrick, are you hurt?" he repeated looking anxiously at me.

I shook my head vaguely as I observed the familiar street the Lisbon's lived on, I could barely even remember walking to the road. Then I noticed Dan, he was staggering drunkenly up the road.

"Daddy's home," muttered Chris worridly as his small hand gripped mine.

"Is that man your Dad?" asked Minelli letting go of me and indicating the drunk, Chris and Matt nodded before Minelli intercepted him.

We watched silently as the pair conversed, then came back towards us. Dan was glowering with rage as he stormed over, his blazing anger unquenched by the now heavy rainfall descending around us.

"What the hell?! I leave you alone for five minutes and you get James and Tessa killed?!" he demanded, I couldn't help but notice the drunken slur to his words. Bastard.

"They're not dead," Chris informed him bravely, "Patrick said they're gonna be okay so they'll be okay," he continued speaking and it made my heart twist painfully at his innocent naivete. He truly had that much faith in me.

"Well Patrick is not the law," snapped Dan angrily turning his bloodshot eyes to me, "this is all your fault," he spat the words at me and I'm sure he would have hit me if not for Minelli standing there.

"It is not his fault, in fact he saved their lives and helped us apprehend a serial killer," Minelli replied defensively.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong, it was my fault. None of this would have happened if I hadn't intervened with their lives but I found I couldn't speak. My mouth wouldn't open, my tongue wouldn't move. I tried not to think about it, I had bugger concerns right now then myself.

"Can we go see them at the hosptial?" inquired Chris innocently.

"Or at least get out of this rain," added Kimball in his usual blunt tone but I could hear the worry hiding in his words.

"I'll take you there right after I call your parents," answered Minelli taking charge, "well only you two," he pointed to Kimball and Wayne as he pulled out his cell.

"S'okay, I'll drive," offered Dan to which Matt snorted with surpressed laughter. I might have found it funny if I wasn't feeling so detached from everything.

"You're drunk," stated Minelli simply.

"So?"

"It's illegal to drive while drunk."

"So?"

"Drive and I'll arrest you."

"You're not the boss of me."

"I'm a cop," snapped Minelli failing to mask his irritation.

"Oh. G'day officer," said Dan politely, "wha'ever y'say."

Minelli just grunted as he moved away with Kimball and Wayne, leaving Matt, Chris and I alone with Dan in the downpour. The other cops were a bit away and I noticed John sitting mutely in the back of one of the police cars. He had the same blank stare he had when they arrested him.

"You kids s'okay?" asked Dan.

"The par-medics already saw to us, we're fine," answered Chris squeezing my hand worriedly, "are you okay Patrick? You haven't said much."

I tried to say I was fine but again I couldn't speak, why couldn't I speak? I thought panick-stricken, hadn't I been through enough without being unable to speak? Maybe I hadn't, maybe I deserved this for Angela's death and getting my Dad stabbed and James and Teresa...

"Patrick?" Chris repeated my name looking up at me with a concerned pair of emerald eyes. I nodded and he looked slightly less anxious.

"My daughter has been shot. My son has been stabbed. How is it you are alive when they drop like flies around you?" demanded Dan forcefully advancing on me, I released Chris' hand, "this is your fault, if my children die it is your fault."

I tried not to let his words get to me, he was just a lousy drunk that took his rage out on his children, at least my Dad always had a reason... On the other hadn't if I hadn't gotten Angela killed would he be like this? Was that my fault too? My despair riddled mind pressed as Dan backed me into the wall, an evil gleam to his eyes.

"Ready," announced Minelli returning with Kimball and Wayne, Dan instantly stalked away from me.

I got into a car with Minelli, Chris, Matt, Kimball and Wayne. There was just enough room for all of us, fortunately Dan had to ride in a different car. The drive was mostly silent, only Chris was in high spirits. He honestly believed everything would be okay because I'd said it was. I wanted him to be right but it was all to easy to see James bleeding to death in the corner and Teresa closing her eyes.

I was suddenly angry. Why hadn't I done more to save them? How could I not have known what was wrong with Hannah? How could I have left my Dad and Teresa's brother's alone? How could I have not realized John would follow through with his revenge plans? Why hadn't I stopped her running into the building? Why hadn't I made sure we all went to get Minelli? Why hadn't I realized she was hurt? Why hadn't I done something when John lunged and Minelli fired? Why was I so useless?!

My accusing mind demanded questions I had no answer to.

"Here we are," Minelli muttered half to himself as we pulled into the hospital parking lot.

He parked the car and lead us inside to the hospital waiting room, he said he was going to find out how they were doing as he left the five of us alone. It should be seven of us. Minelli returned a short while later and told us they were in surgery, except my Dad who was resting. Even knowing my Dad was okay was not enough to life my melancholy spirits.

Kimball took a seat first, Wayne joined him as did Matt and Minelli. I stood in the middle of room with little Chris clutching onto my hand for dear life as he informed us they would be fine.

I hoped he was right...


	45. Chapter 45: Family

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **This chapter's pretty dark at the end but I still hope you'll like it. Thanks so much to jisbon-sessed, tigerlily124, rigspeltforeverxx and JisbonvsCaskett for reviewing :) Another cliffie I'm afraid but on the bright side I've already done half of the next chapter just couldn't resist cutting the chapter off where I did. Read on...

"Patrick can we sit down? My legs are tired," begged Chris, I tried to tell him he could but I still couldn't speak so I merely nodded, "Patrick you have so sit down too."

"Matt? Chris?" asked a worried old man's voice, their grandfather... Albert.

"Grandpa!" the pair exclaimed delightly as they ran to hug him.

"I was so worried about you guys," said Albert hugging them tightly and I noticed unshed tears welling in his eyes.

"Don't worry Grandpa, Patrick said they're gonna be OK," Chris assured him leading him towards us, Minelli rose to greet him and the pair shook hands.

"Where's Grandma?" inquired Matt quietly and I put my head in my hands, they didn't know she was dead!

"S-sh-she's gone Matt," I heard the old man stutter, "she's gone to live with your Mommy and the angels in heaven."

There was a silence that descended on the small waiting room, I moved away my hands to see Chris' smile disapperating into a flood of tears. Matt blinked away some of his own as Albert attempted to comfort Chris. Minelli, Kimball and Wayne gave me a stern look. They must've thought I'd told them.

"Do you mind watching them?" Minelli asked, "I've got calls to make," to which Albert nodded and took his seat as Minelli left the building.

I wondered where Dan was but pushed that thought away, I was glad he wasn't there. The waiting room was quiet except for Chris' crying on Albert's knee and Wayne's pitiful attempts to strike up conversation with someone. Kimball's answers were as blunt as ever and Matt was too busy trying not to cry. I still couldn't speak.

"Kimball!" snapped a stern voice with a hint of conern, I turned to see a slightly overweight Asian woman striding remarkably quickly over to us.

"My Mom," explained Kimball briefly before going to meet her.

She enveloped her son in a tight hug which he struggled to break free from before the two began conversing in a language I didn't speak, Korean? I found myself envying him, despite his embarrassment at her show of affection at least his mother was a)alive and b)loved him. An Asian man also joined them and smiled with relief when he saw Kimball, they continued to talk/argue before they moved over to us.

"I'm going to take Kimball home now," announced Kimball's mother casting a stern gaze across us, clearly she was upset he'd been in danger.

"Okay," said Albert, "but speak to Minelli first, he-"

"I already did," interrupted Kimball's father, "he said we could take him home."

"Can't I stay?" pleaded Kimball looking hopeful.

"No," answered his Mom swiftly, "but I will give them our number so they can call with news," to which Kimball reluctantly inclined his head in agreement as his Mom scribbled down a number and handed it to Albert.

"Bye Kimball," chorused our group, even Chris who had finally stopped crying. Except me, I still couldn't speak. They seemed not to notice as Kimball said bye and left hesitantly with his family.

"Do you want to sit down Patrick?" offered Albert kindly, "there's plenty of seats you know...?"

I simply shook my head again. Not much else I could do when I couldn't speak, I thought again of trying to get someone to look at me but again dismissed the thought. It wasn't a large hospital and I needed the doctors to be working on Teresa and James. No news since Minelli told us they were in surgery but I convinced myself that was good, they'd have to telll us if they'd died.

"Wayne?! Wayne?!" called Erin as she ran into the waiting room looking for her brother, upon seeing him she clambered onto his lap and beamed up at him, "there you are! Mommy and Gareth were worried about you when they got a phone call."

"Oh Wayne I'm so glad you're okay," agreed Alexa as she and Gareth hurried into the waiting area and over to Wayne.

"I'm fine Mom really," Wayne answered as his cheeks went red, "I wasn't even in the house... can you get off me Erin?"

Erin reluctantly climbed off him and scowled as he got to his feet while Alexa began smothering him with kisses.

"MOM!" he protested pulling away, his cheeks fully crimson now.

Matt, Chris and Erin giggled at that, even Gareth and Albert smiled. I tried and failed miserably. It didn't make me feel happy anyway, still slightly envious but the main bulk of my concious thought was focused on Teresa being in surgery and to a lesser extent James and my Dad.

"Come on sweetie let's go home," Alexa said.

"But I wanna stay," he mumbled in mild protest as he managed to surpess a yawn.

"Sorry kiddo," answered Gareth, "it's way past your bedtime. And Erin's. And I gotta study for this stupid test tomorrow."

Wayne gave a resigned sigh as he went over to Albert who produced the paper with Kimball's number on it and added his own to it making him promise to ring if their was any news. Albert said he would before we said our goodbyes and he left. We all fell silent again.

"Why does everyone keep dying Grandpa?" Chris asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" replied Albert looking slightly puzzled.

"Mom died. Grandma died. James nearly died. Teresa nearly died... why does everyone I love want to die? Am I bad or am I doing something wrong or what?" Chris continued worridly, "I don't understand!" he cried breaking down into sobs again.

"Oh Chris," Albert said gently holding him close, "its not your fault these things happen, it's got nothing to do with you."

"But it's not fair!" added Matt also crying now, "I don't them to die, I don't want Mom or Grandma to be dead. Why?"

"Oh Matt," Albert added moving his other arm to pull Chris into a awkwars half-hug, "life's not fair, that's just what life is."

I was so overwhelmed by guily all of a sudden, I'd been keeping it at bay but now the walls were blasted away as a violent wave broke through and engulfed me. Filling my mind with guilty water that spilled from my eyes as I ran outside shaking.

"Y'know I've been waitin' for ya," said a grim voice from a bench outside the door to the side, Dan was sitting there with a nearly empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. I found myself walking anxiously over to him as he spoke the slurred words, I was suddenly aware of the lack of Minelli. His car wasn't there either.

Without warning he leaped up surprisingly quickly and grabbed me, I tried to cry out but still couldn't utter a sound as he slammed me into the wall, pinning me there with one of his thick strong arms. With his free arm he gulped down the last of the booze and threw aside the bottle, I felt my already rapid heartbeat increase as I struggled vainly against him. He still had that gleam in his eyes, a mixture of anger and hatred. Not a good combination.

"My children are gonna die and it's all your fault," he hissed into my ear, I said nothing. I couldn't and he was right anyway, I blamed myself, "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life."

With that he wrapped his thick hands round my throat and squeezed, I felt my oxygen supply cutting off. I clawed pathetically at his firm hands but I could feel my strength failing as dark specks danced before my eyes.

All I could smell was the reek of his beer, all I could see were his bloodshot eyes burning with raw hatred and untamed fury, all I could hear was my thundering heartbeat.

His eyes were becoming fainter as my need to breath grew stronger. The strength slipped away from my arms, legs. My body flopped limp as he tightened his grip, a triumphant smile playing on his lips.

This was it, I was going to die.

I felt my lungs burning for air, I needed to breath so badly. I could feel his hands still on my neck crushing the life from me and I was powerless to stop him. I was all fought out.

I was going to die.

A part of me was delighted, I couldn't do any more damage. I wouldn't be able to suffer anymore. I wouldn't be able to make anyone else suffer anymore. I wouldn't have to worry about Red John or Minelli or my Dad.

I was going to die.

A part of me was miserable, I was never going to see Teresa again. I was never going to see my Dad again. I was never going to see my friends again. I was never going to do anything again.

I was going to die.

I didn't want to die here. Not in this downpour of rain. Not having the life throttled out of me by Teresa's father. At the very least I didn't want to die looking his eyes so I closed my own and thought of all the good times, with Teresa, my friends, my Dad, at the Lisbon house, even my Mom.

Either Dan changed his mind or he thought I was already dead as he released his grip and threw me onto the ground. I hit my head hard, I felt the stab of pain and then I felt nothing...


	46. Chapter 46: Reality

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Here you go, the next chapter! Thanks to rigspeltforeverxx, SSA Silver Moon, jisbon-sessed, tigerlily124, JisbonvsCaskett and ShunKickShunkers for reviews :)

_I was climbing the face of a cliff with Teresa, she was ahead of me of course while I lagged behind. She was just about at the top when she looked down at me smiling triumphantly before there was a loud bang of a gunshot and I noticed John standing there smiling._

_I tried to call out but I couldn't speak, all I could do was watch as her face became grave and her grip slack. She fell, frantically I tried to grab her and succeded in reaching her hand. She hung in the air held only by my weak grip, she was breathing raggedly and it was hard to hold her with the rain making my hand slippery._

_"Patrick..." she whispered as her eyes fluttered closed, at the same time she slipped from my grip. I tried to scream no but I was helpless to watch as she tumbled into the crimson smiling face which had replaced the ground. _

_Abruptly I felt someone pulling me up, I glanced to see who it was but he'd already started to strangle me. Just when I thought I couldn't hold on anymore he let go and I fell also, I just kept falling. _

_With a painful thud I collided with the solid ground. I ached all over and my head throbbed agonizingly painfully. I didn't want to open my eyes, I didn't want to get up. The weight of the guilt held he down as the rain fell onto me, into me. The cold water seeped through my skin and clung to me. _

_If I had the strength I would have shivered. If I had the strength I would have cried. _

"Pat? Pat?! PAT?! PAT!"

_The voice sounded so distant and far away as if it was a dream. _

_I was aware of someone scooping me up and holding me close, comfortingly. They wrapped their arms around me and I felt some of the warmth coming back to me. I wondered who it was, who would be as nice to me? Everyone was dead. _

"Pat? Pat-Patrick can you hear me? Come on, don't die on me. Please," begged the voice as it started to cry, "wake up, please wake up."

_Was I asleep? Or was I awake? Was the voice real or a dream? I didn't have a clue. All my thoughts were foggy as I attempted to open my eyes. I was so exhausted and everything hurt, I couldn't._

"Patrick, please wake up. I love you, just don't die Patrick please," _came the voice pleading again, _"Patrick? Come on, don't do this to me."

_This time I managed to stir in his arms, I forced my fatiigued limbs to move as I tried to open the heavy eyelids blocking my sight. I fought against this weird half asleep and half awakeness._

"Patrick?" _questioned the voice sounded less distraught as they held me tighter, _"can you hear me? Wake up."

I finally succeeded in opening my eyes.

It was dark and it was raining, I noticed an empty bottle of Jack Daniels lying over there. Memories latched themselves onto me as I saw it. Dan. The hospital. Minelli. Albert. Chris. Matt. Guilt. Hannah. James. Teresa. Red John. The old Bosco house.

I wanted to go back to that strange place, it suddenly seemed more appealing that dealing with the overwhelming guilt that was attempting to kill me from the inside out. Mixed in with a load of worry, panic hit me suddenly. Who long had I been out? How were Teresa and James?

"Patrick! Oh Patrick I'm so glad your okay," exclaimed my Dad and I realized he was the one holding me. Shocked I glanced at him, his face was stricken with tears and concern.

"I thought I'd lost you there for a minute, you were so cold and still," he continued worridly holding me tighter, "don't die, just don't die... I can barely cope without Mariana let alone loosing you too. I know you think I don't care but I do, I do love you Patrick. You're my son, mine and Mariana's..."

He kissed me lightly on the forehead, "please don't die."

I was touched by his sudden behavior, I wanted to say as much but again I couldn't speak. Still I opened my mouth but no words came out, what the hell was wrong with me?! I wondered feeling frustrated.

"What's wrong?" he asked frowning slightly as he noticed me struggling to speak. I shrugged nervously, "can't you speak?" he offered and I shook my head furiously in agreement.

"Patrick? Alex?" questioned Albert as he wandered outside, he noticed us and scowled as he walked over to us, "what...?"

"I found him unconciouss on the ground," answered my Dad darkly.

"What happened?" he inquired kneeling beside us.

"I don't know," snapped my Dad, I wished I could speak. To tell him to be nicer to Albert and to ask Albert any news on Teresa, or James.

"Patrick what happened?" Albert asked me instead, but I still couldn't speak.

"He can't talk," my Dad informed him pointedly.

"Oh my, are you okay Patrick?" he said worridly to which my Dad snorted, "what?"

"He can't talk and I found him unconcious, does that not answer you're question?" my Dad replied.

"Did someone... strangle you Patrick?" Albert asked me deciding to ignore my Dad, I nodded.

"This is your fault!" my Dad snarled accudingly at Albert.

"My fault? I did not hurt your son!"

"No? But you still left him alone to be attacked!"

"I was comforting my grandsons, Patrick just ran outside."

"Oh so you don't care as long as nothing happens to your family?"

"No! I thought Minelli was there," Albert protested before turning back to me, "did Minelli do this to you?"

I shook my head.

"Bloody cops," muttered my Dad, "vanishing like that, wait till I give him a piece of my mind..."

"Would you like to come back inside?" interrupted Albert.

"Fine," agreed my Dad reluctantly...


	47. Chapter 47: Waiting

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Here you go, the next chapter! I am evil though leaving you on yet another cliffhanger. Thanks to rigspeltforeverxx, SSA Silver Moon, jisbon-sessed, Dr Kevorkian and ShunKickShunkers for reviews :)

I stood shakily onto my feet and went back inside to the warmth of the hospital with my Dad and Albert. We went back into the waiting room where Chris was swinging his feet looking bored and Matt was trying not to yawn.

"Excuse me," Albert asked a passing nurse, "is there any chance a doctor could look at my granddaughter's friend?"

"Erm... all of are doctors are either at home or busy, is it life threatening?" answered the young nurse worridly.

"No, I guess it can wait," Albert muttered, "thanks for your time," he added before she scuttled away.

"Bitch," murmered my Dad scowling as we went back into the waiting area and sat down, even I did.

I put my head in my hands, it was throbbing agonizingly painfully. On some level I knew I probably deserved this, Dan was right about it being my fault but it didn't make my head hurt any less.

"Patrick, are you okay?" Chris inquired and I looked up to see him biting his lip nervously, like Angela and Teresa.

I managed to nod, this aggravated my head more so I let it drop back into my hands.

"Does you head hurt?" my Dad questioned sounding genuinely concerned.

I thought about lying but changed my mind and nodded, seeing their faces looking more worried I grabbed a magazine on the table before me and wrote **I'll be fine**. They didn't look convinced however.

"Why did you write it down Patrick?" asked Chris looking bemused.

"He can't talk," explained my Dad.

"Why?"

"I don't know and the doctors are too busy," muttered my Dad darkly, "bunch of stuck up sons of bit-"

"Anyone for James Lisbon?" said a newcomer and we all turned to look at the doctor, "he's out of surgery, you can see him now."

"Is he going to be okay?" inquired Albery hopefully.

"Barring complications he should make a full recovery," the woman answered brightly.

"And Teresa?" pressed Albert.

"Still in surgery," the woman replied evenly, she didn't know.

"Any chance you could look at my son?" my Dad questioned.

"No, I have to help out with the other surgery... complitcations have arisen," she answered slowly.

"What sort of complications?" demanded Albert.

"I don't know until I go in there," the woman shrugged, "come on, follow me and I'll take you to James."

We all jumped up and did so as she led us through the corridors to a room similar to mine and Chris'. James was lying on the bed sleeping. He looked so normal you'd never think he'd been stabbed but they thought he was going to be okay, I thought with relief. If only Teresa was OK too.

Chris skipped over to the bed and saw he was asleep, I watched him from as he sat down beside the bed. Matt grabbed a chair and pulled it over beside Chris as did Albert. My Dad sat down on the only padded seat next to the door and motioned for me to sit on his lap as their was no other seats.

I settled comfortably as he wrapped his arms protectively around me. I rested my aching head on his shoulder which gave me the perfect view of James, I wanted to see him awake. I wished I could be watching Teresa sleeping, they shouldn't have to suffer for my mistakes, for my problems. I'd brought them nothing but trouble my mind accused.

Time ticked by and I noticed Matt and Chris both fell asleep, I didn't blame them. Poor kids had been through enough and it was late. How late I had no idea but it was late, I was tired too. Fatigue ran through my blood replacing the cold but I couldn't sleep. Now especially with my head, it throbbed painfully. The pain got worse and worse but I dared not mention it, it'd only make them worry. I squeezed my eyes shut to try block out the pain, it hurt so much I wanted to cry. I didn't though, I was tough I could take it.

"Poor mites, they're all asleep," Albert said suddenly, "not that you can blame them with all they've been through. Especially Patrick, he looked exhausted."

"I guess," grunted my Dad in response, "Pat had been having trouble sleeping lately. Ever since... Angela died," I couldn't help but smile inwardly as he remembered her name.

"Really?"

"Yeah, he feels guilty about her death," explained my Dad.

"Why would he feel guilty?"

"Because... she died after leaving our house."

"Why was she at your house?"

"I was... romantically involved her with her," my Dad answered slowly.

"She wouldn't... I mean really..." Albert protested before silence fell. There was silence for a long while, "does it ever get any easier?"

"What?"

"Losing your wife. Does it ever get any easier," repeated Albert, "I miss Hannah so much..."

"Honestly? No," he replied sincerely and he hugged me slightly tighter. Albert fell silent again, "look on the bright side, at least you have your grandkids and the killer's been caught."

"It's not much consolation really."

"Anyone for Teresa Lisbon?" asked the woman from earlier, immediately I opened my eyes and turned to look at her.

"You're awake," my Dad smiled.

"She'd out of surgery, would you like to see her?"

I jumped up and nodded vigorously, she smiled at my enthusiasm as she led me through to another room near James' one. I saw her lying on the bed and ran over to her, a smile playing on my lips as I saw she was breathing, even if she was asleep. I hoped she'd wake up.

I couldn't see a chair so I knelt down beside the bed and watched her sleeping. Tenderly I reached out for her hand and held it tighly, I wasn't going to let her fall no matter what. She was going to be okay, she had to be okay. I was oblivious to all else as I knelt holding her hand as I waited for her to wake, I even managed to ignore my head.

After awhile my drooping eyelids closed themselves and my heavy head rested itself onto the soft bed. I was still holding her hand, I wasn't going to let go. She was going to be okay. She was going to wake up. She was going to live. She had to.

A smile flickered on my lips as I thought of all we'd done together, all we'd been through good and bad. All that had happened to us. She was the best friend I'd ever had, Teresa Lisbon.

"Patrick?" came her voice, I wasn't sure if it was a dream or a memory or real life.

"Patrick?" she repeated and my heavy eyelids slowly opened to see her lying there looking at me.

I tried to speak but still couldn't. It didn't matter, she was alive. She was lying in bed being alive. Nothing else mattered. I smiled warmly at her for lack of anything better to do, she returned my smile.

"Patrick..."

Her voice was the last thing I heard.

Her smile was the last thing I saw.

She was my last thought...


	48. Chapter 48: Beep

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay in updating but I promised I'd work on some of my other stories first, this chapter is happier at the end so I hope you'll forgive me :) I know the start is a bit weird but its fun writing weird things so meh, anyway thanks so much to Dr Kevorkian, JisbinvsCaskett, rigspeltforeverxx, Lexi, SSA Silver Moon and jisbon-sessed for reviewing, so many reviews! You are all awesome :)

* * *

**Beep.**

I heard the irksome sound and frowned inwardly.

**Beep.**

It came again, it was such a high pitched sound.

**Beep.**

Stupid sound I was trying to sleep!

**Beep.**

Damn that sound! I wanted it to shut up.

**Beep.**

I could feel my frustration bubbling, I felt like screaming `shut up!`

**Beep.**

I couldn't scream, my mind recalled distantly. I hadn't been able to speak.

**Beep.**

As my mind groped for fuzzy memories I suddenly wanted to wake up.

**Beep**.

Teresa, she was alive! I was so glad she was alive.

**Beep.**

I wanted to wake up, I wanted to see her.

**Beep.**

All I had to do was open my eyes.

**Beep.**

It was harder than I thought, my eyelids seemed so very heavy.

**Beep.**

I listened to that sound and tried harder, I had to see Teresa again.

**Beep.**

I finally managed it, ther was a blurry haze of disjointed shapes and colors.

**Beep.**

I blinked a few times and thing came into focus.

**Beep.**

I was lying in yet another stupid hospital bed, in a hospital.

**Beep.**

That stupid sound was so annoying, seriously!

**Beep.**

I tried to ignore at I slowly surveyed my surroudnings.

**Beep.**

My Dad was slumped onto a chair in the corner snoring gently

**Beep.**

I smiled to see him there and tried to call out to him, but still no sound.

**Beep.**

Other than that.

**Beep.**

I glared at the stupid machine as I cautiously sat up.

**Beep.**

My head was pounding, not as bad as before but still...

**Beep.**

I reached up my hand to touch it and noticed two things.

**Beep.**

One: I had a bandage on my head.

**Beep.**

Two: Angela's necklace was wrapped around my wrist.

**Beep.**

I dangled it in front of my eyes and looked carefully at it.

**Beep.**

It was definately hers, the same one I'd had repaired.

**Beep**.

I wondered why I had it, had something happened to her?

**Beep.**

I started to panic.

**Beep. Beep**.

What if her condition had worsened?

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**

What if she as in a coma?

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep**.

What if she had...? I tried to force my mind to think the thought.

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**

What if she was dead?

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**

I didn't want her to be dead! She couldn't be dead!

**Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.**

"Patrick, I need you to calm down okay?" said a nurse kindly as she appeared beside me and I noticed my Dad waking up. I tried to ask about Teresa but I still couldn't speak, damn this stupid muteness!

"Pat, calm down," my Dad prompted as he walked over to me. Desperate for information I showed him the necklace, "you're worried about your friend?"

I nodded vigorously then stopped when it made my head throb even worse.

"She's OK Pat, don't worry she's fine," he informed me gently and I searched for the truth in his eyes, he was being honest. I let out a relieved breath and the rapid beeping slowed, "them bitch doctor just won't let her out of bed so she gave you that for good luck or some other crap."

"You realize your language is foul?" offered the nurse scowling at him.

"I'm _so _sorry," my Dad replied sarcastically.

"No need to be rude," sniffed the nurse.

"No need to correct my behavior, now beat it or shut the hell up," snapped my Dad turning back to me as the nurse stiffened and walked away, "dumb bitch," he muttered shaking his head, "so Teresa's fine, quit worrying about her and that other kid... Jack? James? Jethro? Something like that, well he's gonna be fine too."

I felt relieve gently flow through me before I tried to ask what was wrong with me but still I couldn't speak! It was maddening not being able to ask a stupid question. My Dad saw my frustration and handed me a pen and a notebook.

"I figured your... not being able to talk... would probably not be fixed so I got you a notebook and a pen so you could write in it," he explained, "just until I can find out a way to cure you and get your voice back."

`_What happened to me?`_I scribbled down hurridly.

"When... you were attacked and you hit your head, well you hit it pretty hard like badly hard and so we sortof nearly lost you there for a minute," he attempted to explain, "good thing they noticed before... you know... it... being... too late... to... you get the point."

I nodded carefully knowing it was the best he could offer me.

"They say you were probably in alot of pain, is that true Pat?" he questioned.

I shrugged unsurely.

"That is twice you've nearly died this fall simply because you didn't say nothing about feeling ill or in pain or whatever... Patrick if you're hurting you gotta tell me okay?"

I nodded vaguely before writing, _`Can I see Teresa?`_

"I dunno Pat, you're not really supposed to be out of bed."

_`Please Dad?`_

"I guess I could go ask her," he muttered and slinked away.

Wasting no time I unhooked myself from the various things attached to me and weaved my was throught the corridors to Teresa's room, I wasn't going to wait for a doctor to tell me when I could see my friend. I arrived at her room and noticed Dan there so quickly I hugged the wall.

"No... y'know why you ain'y got better yet? It's cuz, it's cuz you are a selfish bitch... di' y'know tha'?" Dan was saying, his words slurred. He was drunk, big surprise, "Ange- Angie would be ashamed o' you, y'know tha'? Famil-family first."

"Family first?! You're the one that beats us!" I heard Teresa protest, I was so happy to hear her voice.

"You... you ain't s'posed to tell anyone, 'bout that," continued Dan angrily, I thought of going in there but I couldn't exactly confront him and then there was the fact he had tried to kill me.

"I haven't!"

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"You ain't lying are you? Cuz if you are I'm gonna do to you wha' I did to... err... you're friend."

"What do mean? Dad... did you... are you the one who attacked Patrick?" she asked quietly.

"No, an even if I did he's dead so screw you both," replied Dan quickly, "nuff said."

"HE'S NOT DEAD!"

"Really? Lucky, sneaky sonofabitch! Damn him," he growled furiously, "well wha'ever he says he's a liar."

"Sir, can you please come back when you're sober you're daughter needs quiet for recovery," said a new voice of a some doctor or nurse I presumed.

"Fine," grumbled Dan and he left walking stamping away in the opposite direction to me.

I took a deep breath, counted to 10 and went into the room. Teresa was facing away from the door, staring thoughtfully off into the distance. I attempted to speak but still couldn't, damn so instead I resumed my slow walk over to her. She looked better, her face had color, her beautiful eyes were alive... she finally noticed me.

"Patrick!" she called out happily as a grin spread from ear to ear as I reached the bed, she awkwardly threw her arms around me, "I was so scared... I was afraid... that... that you would be dead. You're the best friend I've ever had too, the very best..."


	49. Chapter 49: Decisions

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **I know this chapter is not as interesting as some of the others but I hope you like it anyway. Thank you so much to JisbonvsCaskett, rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed and SSA Silver Moon for reviewing :)

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She finally pulled away, her smile lit up her face and I returned her smile. I was so happy she was alive, so happy she was okay. I wished I could tell her that but still I could not speak, I shoved aside my frustration though not letting it ruin the moment.

"How are you feeling?" Teresa inquired after a few minutes.

_`Okay.` _I wrote down and she looked at me confused, _`I can't talk.` _I added hurridly.

"Why?"

I simply shrugged and she fell silent looking slightly guilty as she bit her lip.

"My Dad was the one that tried to kill you, wasn't he?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head, not wanting to get Dan in trouble. Even if he was an evil bastard he was still Teresa's Dad and I wasn't going to tell on him.

"Don't lie Patrick, he practically admitted it."

I reluctantly nodded and she hugged me again.

"Patrick I'm so sorry! I can't... I don't... Patrick I'm so sorry," she mumbled miserably.

`_It's not your fault_,` I scrawled down, `_and don't worry I won't tell on him_.`

"No Patrick you have to tell him," she announced, I looked at her confused, "its one thing to hit us when he's drunk but he almost killed you Patrick, you could have died... Patrick I'm pretty sure he wants you dead."

`_I'll be fine_,` I wrote quickly.

"Don't say that Patrick! Whenever you say that you usually end up in trouble," she scalded scowling slightly at me.

_`I didn't say it, I just wrote it down_,` I scribbled down instead and I smiled as she laughed.

"Nice of you to wait for me Patrick," my Dad said and I noticed him leaning in the doorway.

"Oh hello Alex," greeted Teresa nervously, "always a pleasure to see you."

My Dad snorted in reply, "Good to see your alive Teresa and your brother... Jet? Jack? Jake?"

"James," Teresa corrected.

"Actually I wanted to talk to you first," said Minelli as he appeared beside my Dad, "ah Patrick, glad to see your OK," he added when he saw me.

"No thanks to you," muttered my Dad glaring at him.

"Excuse me?"

"If you hadn't run off Patrick would be fine," he continued accusingly at poor Minelli who looked tired.

"Since when did you start to care?" snapped Teresa angrily, "he practically lives at my house and you don't care."

"That might explain it," mused Minelli suddenly looking thoughtful.

"Explain what?" queriered my Dad raising an eyebrow at him.

"The bruises all three children have," Minelli announced bluntly.

"What do you mean `bruises?` Is someone hurting my son?" my Dad gasped in mock shock, I noticed the glint of relief in his eyes as did Teresa who was struggling to surpress her anger.

"I'm afraid so," Minelli told him looking sympathetic, "I am right aren't I?" he added as an after thought.

"Yes," Teresa admitted forcing the word out of her mouth, "ever since Mom died... he gets drunk... and beats us."

"I am so sorry," Minelli said looking at us with eyes full of pity.

"Well quit being sorry and go arrest the sonofabitch!" commanded my Dad pointing to the door.

"All in due time Mr Ja-"

"Alex, call me Alex," my Dad interrupted.

"Fine Alex, just be patient."

"Be patient? You cops are a bunch of lazy morons, you are in here pestering my son instead of going out and searching for the psychopaths trying to kill him!" my Dad practically yelled, "what the hell is wrong with this town?"

"I'd watch my tongue if I were you," Minelli muttered stiffly.

"I'd watch your back if I were you," countered my Dad narrowing his eyes.

"Why don't you wait outside?"

"Why don't you leave my son alone?" responded my Dad fighting to reign in his temper, I'd give anything to be able to tell them both to stop arguing.

"My Dad's the one that tried to kill Patrick," offered Teresa solemly causing both men to turn to look at her with shocked expressions.

"Forget arresting him I am going to kill that bastard!" snarled my Dad seething with rage.

"Hello I am an officer of the law, you can't go around threatening to kill people!" snapped a frustrated Minelli.

"Then go and do your damn job!"

"You have no right to tell me what to do!"

"Excuse me? Am I interrupting?" questioned Albert politely as he came to the door.

"Thank god you're here!" exclaimed Teresa looking relieved, "I think those two were about to rip each other's throats out."

"Was not," Minelli said firmly.

"Maybe," added my Dad gaining another a dark look from Minelli.

"Okay..."

"Don't you have someone to arrest Peperoni?" inquired my Dad of Minelli as he managed to compose himself.

"It's Minelli."

"I know," smirked my Dad, "bye-bye Pasta."

"Am I missing something?" wondered Albert as Minelli stalked away fuming.

"Just the fact that guy is a bastard that can't be assed to do his damn job," my Dad informed him.

"Should you really talk like that around the children?"

"Haven't you ever lived on a Carnival? Pat's heard worse and Dan... is it? Is a drunk so I'm sure she's used to it."

"What do you mean Dan is a drunk?" asked Albert looking shocked. I pitied the poor man, he'd lost his wife, his daughter, almost lost his grandkids and now as about to discover his grandkids were punchbags for the drunk.

"Maybe Teresa should tell you this, come on Pat back to your own room."

I looked indignantly at him not wanting to leave Teresa and her grip tightened on my hand. She was holding my hand? When had that happened. Not that I minded, I bet her crush would be jealous... That was a pretty random thought I noticed curiously.

"Maybe your Dad's right, you look pretty beat," added Albert and the rest of us flinched inwardly at the word.

"Okay," sighed Teresa reluctantly, "see you soon Patrick."

She unentwined her fingers and I noticed I still had Angela's cross on my wrist, I took it off and offered it to her but she shook her head.

"You keep it for now, give it back to me when we get out of this place okay?"

I nodded in agreement and slowly wandered back to the door, I longed to spend more time alone with her to talk but I knew it would have to wait so I followed my Dad back through the corridors to my room and clambered back into my hospital bed.

"Lucky about Dan being abusive, right Pat?" my Dad said sitting down, "if I see that bastard though I swear I am going to rip his fucking heart out, no one tried to kill you like that..." he turned his eyes back to me, "get better soon Patrick, when you are well we are gonna get as far away from this place as possible..."


	50. Chapter 50: To Stay or to Go?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this, how many times must I repeat this? If I did not own it last 49 chapters I am not going to own it for the 50th!

**Author's Note: **I know this chapter is not very good but I'm fed up of rewriting it, 7 times in one day! 11 times since my last update so you are stuck with it. Thanks to JisbonvsCaskett, rigspeltforever, ShunKickShunKers, Helvetica Bold and SSA Silver Moon for reviewing, you are all awesome!

* * *

Was I hearing right? Had he just said leave? I felt my heartbeat race rapidly as I simply stared at him aghast. I'd known at the back of my mind eventually we'd have to leave but... really, now?

"Patrick, are you okay?" he asked gently.

`_I don't want to leave,` _I scribbled down quickly as all my hope plunged to the bottom of my heart and even that sunk down.

"Fine okay, don't look so panicked," my Dad forced a laugh, "how about, we won't leave unless you agree to it?"

`_Okay_,` I wrote cautiously feeling suspicious, `_but I won't change my mind. I don't want to leave.`_

"Pat, I know you like it here but they're just kids. A dime a dozen," he scoffed.

`_Not like my friends. Not like Teresa_.`

"I know you really like this girl but you've gotta let it go," he said firmly.

`_NO! She's my best friend_.`

"Pat... friendships when you're kids mean nothing, I don't remember the names of my friends when I was 11 and y'know what? I don't care, because they don't matter," he informed me seriously, "you forget about them, they forget about you. They do not matter, at all."

`_Yes they do matter! They won't forget me and I won't forget them_,` I wrote stubbornly.

"Okay fine, maybe they will remember you but for the trouble you just seem to get mixed up in," he told me and I winced, he'd hit a nerve. The guilt I felt about everything came tumbling back, "all this is your fault Patrick. I know this, you know this, they know this. You're nothing but trouble to them."

_`You're wrong_,` I scrawled down shakily, `_they don't blame me.`_

"Maybe not now cuz they're all in shock but mark my words they will. Then they'll hate you because you are the one who endangered all their lives via Red John, you are the one who got Angela killed, you are the reason Teresa and her brothers got abused, you are the reason her and her brother almost died," he said calmly and I felt tears welling in my eyes as guilt crushed my hope lower, "you think things are ever going to be the same with them? You think everything's just gonna back to the way it was? It's not Pat, its not. Isn't it better for everyone if you left?"

I just sat there feeling numb as tears rolled down my cheeks, washing away all the joy I'd felt before. I wished suddenly Dan had killed me, it would have been better. I was trouble, all this was my fault. I felt so guilty, not for the first time I wondered if you could die of guilt. I felt so awful.

My Dad was right though, I hadn't thought of it like that but Dan had and Dad said so everyone else probably would. Better I leave them all so they could be happy and more importantly safe. I was a danger to them.

"Patrick?" questioned my Dad peering at me anxiously.

`_You're right Dad_,` I wrote simply, `_I want to be alone for awhile_.`

"Sure, okay... I'll get a drink or look for marks. Hospitals are great places for marks," he said before he left.

I lay down miserably lying on my side feeling utterly hopeless. Despair clung to me like a shadow while the air felt thick with a smothering guilt. I couldn't help but reach out a hand to my neck, it was sore from where Dan had strangled me. I felt something cold touch my neck and moved my hand back, it was Angela's necklace.

I studied the little silver cross carefully. I didn't believe in all that religious nonsense but it was still nice, real silver even. I loved it and at the same time despised it. I had used it to cause Angela's death after all, but...

It meant so much to Teresa, more perhaps than it had to Angela. It was as precious to her as my Mom's picture was to me, that was why I had had it repaired for her. Then why I wondered had she given it to me? It had to mean she cared alot about me too. She thought I was her best friend too, the best friend she'd ever had. She hadn't blame me, would she change her mind?

_"Of course not Patrick," said my Mom and I glance up to see her standing there smiling at me._

_"Mom?" I gasped then realized I had spoken aloud, "I can talk again!"_

_"Not quite," she told me as I sat up, "you're dreaming."_

_"Oh," I muttered feeling slightly disappointed._

_"Being in a dream is not that bad, better than nightmares at least?" she offered tilting her head to look at me curiously, "come here," she added opening her arms and I immediately launched myself into her embrace as she held me tight._

_"I miss you Mom," I whispered into her hair._

_"I miss you too," she whispered back._

_"How can you miss me? You're a figment of my imagination," I pointed out miserably._

_"So? It's the best the circumstances have to offer, its better than being miserable isn't it?"_

_"I guess," I admitted grudgingly closing my eyes and burying my head in her shoulder, "why does all this bad stuff keep happening to me? Why can't I just have friends without endangering them?"_

_"Listen to me Patrick," my Mom said firmly pulling away and looking directly into my eyes, the same eyes I had, "John did those things, not you. True friends stick by you no matter what, like you stand by them they stand by you. Trust is a two way street. You know Alex is wrong, he's only saying those things so you'll agree to leave. Think of what Madam Bella taught you."_

_"But..." I began but she cut me off._

_"Don't you dare! You are the one who saved their lives, you. None of this is your fault, not even Angela's death. Stop blaming yourself for things you didn't do or couldn't control, okay?"_

_"Thanks Mom," I mumbled feeling more hopeful as her smile returned._

_"I'm proud of you Patrick," she announced and kissed my forehead gently, that was when I noticed the offensive reek of alcohol, "not me..."_

I snapped my eyes open to see Dan standing over me, his burning with that same intense hatred I'd seen before. When he noticed me awake he clamped his large sweaty hand over my mouth to silence me, not realizing I was mute. My eyes still widened in fear, dying didn't seem as appealing as it had before the conversation with my Mom.

"Don' say nothin'," he snarled angrily, his words still slurred by his drunkeness, "you think tha' I'd forge' wha' y'did? You bloody moron, sneaksy little bastard you are. But I'm still goin' to kill ya!"

His words had not been loud, but then they did not have to be. I groaned inwardly feeling yet more fear for my life. My mind raced for a way out of this as I spied my pencil and paper within my reach I grabbed them and hastily wrote before shoving it at him.

`_HOSPITAL.`_

He focused his eyes to read the word I had written. I hoped to convince him it was stupid to kill me in a such a busy building even as I frantically wished my Dad hadn't closed the blinds.

"So?" he demanded angrily as his free hand gripped my throat.

`_PEOPLE,` _I wrote simply and he stared at me for awhile slowly tightening his grip. He laughed suddenly.

"Y'are smar' I'll give ya that kid," Dan informed me, "ge' dressed. No1," he commanded releasing me.

I let out a relieved breath which became an anxious one as Dan threw my clothes at me before going to stand in front of the door. There went any hope I had of running quickly away. I got changed quickly, when I stood after tying the laces on my sneakers Dan advanced on me again. I cringed in fear but instead he removed the bandage from my head.

"There we can go," he growled.

I nodded hesitantly as my heart fluttered nervously.

"Why won't ya say nothin'?" he demanded snorting with furiously.

`_I can't talk_,` I wrote and showed it to him, he squinted before grunting.

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"Don't ma'er bu' t'is creepy," he slurred as he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder and led me out the door, "try ge' away and I'll hurt yer friends too," he hissed into my ear. There went any hopes of struggling.

"Patrick!" exclaimed Albert smiling as he saw me, which was dashed when he saw Dan. His frail face drained of all color, "Dan, why don't you leave Patrick alone, no one has to get hurt."

"Too late for that old man," Dan snarled as he swung his fist into Albert's face, the old man immediately went down but Dan kicked him in the head.

This was my chance to run... damn my morals! I stepped between Dan and Albert, Dan noticed me and grasped my arm tightly with grip of iron. His angry blood shot eyes refocused themselves on me.

"What...?" gasped a nurse coming round the corner of the corridor. Dan clobbered her too and she fell threw a glass door to a private room.

"C'mon," snapped Dan half dragging me out the door of the hospital, he took me to a rental car.

He popped the trunk and threw me inside, slamming it down with such a force my ears rang. I was suddenly alone in total darkness as the vehicle jittered to life and I felt myself being jostled around as he drove me away...


	51. Chapter 51: Stuck in the Trunk of a Car

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this, how many times must I repeat this? If I did not own it last 49 chapters I am not going to own it for the 50th!

**Author's Note: **I know its not great, I'm sorry it's another not-so-good chapter but I realized that my timeline was slight screwed up which was making it hard to write this. Thanks so much to rigspeltforeverxx, fairygirl44, jisbon-sessed, SSA Silver Moon and The Teal Dragaon for reviewing :) you are all awesome!

* * *

It was horrible in the trunk of the car. It was a small trunk and even though I was pretty small myself I was still in an awkward cramped position which did nothing for the healing bruises from a few days ago. It was also surprisingly hot, I felt like I was in an oven. It was dark too, my vision was blanketed in blackness with only a sliver of light seeping through a tiny gap. It was too small to see out of but it illuminated Angela/Teresa's cross which I had wrapped around my wrist.

I groped around in the darkness for a trunk release or maybe something I could use as a weapon but there was nothing. Just me. Trapped in this scorching darkness in the trunk of some random rental car. I felt equal parts of dread and relief for the jostling journey to be over. Relief I'd be free of this horrible confide but dread for I would most likely die.

I tried not to think about that. I tried not to think of having the life choked out of me again. I tried not to think of how he would dispose of my corpse. I tried not to think of maggots feasting on my flesh as I rotted away in some forgotten ditch. I tried not to think of the tearstricken faces when the people I cared about knew I was dead.

Clearly I was failing, I noticed miserably as tears slid down my face. I hadn't got to say goodbye, I'd never be able to say goodbye. I was just going to die alone by the hands of my best friends father. I managed to somehow freeze my miserey. At least Teresa would be OK, and James. At least I'd got to see her one last time.

I focused my eyes on the small silver cross I'd had repaired for her, it meant so much to her. I shouldn't have brought it. I should have just left it in the hospital so she'd have gotten it back. I wanted her to have it back all of a sudden, it seemed like the most important thing in the world for some reason. I was so desperate to give it back to her.

The car suddenly lurched to a hault and I held my breath.

"Gonna take a leak!" called Dan and I heard his footsteps leading away.

Then it was silent. Time passed by slowly, agonizingly slowly... Day became night, then day again. I was so thirsty, my throat felt scorched and hunger gnawed at my insides. If he didn't come back to kill me soon then I'd die of thirst, I wasn't sure which I'd prefer simply to die or hang here on the hope someone would come and save me.

I heard a car pull up, then footsteps... the trunk flew open and Dan yanked me out and sort of flung me onto the ground. I blinked at the sudden brightness of the sunshine that flooded my vision. I groaned miserably as I blinked a few times to adjust my eyes to light.

"Good, I thought you might already have died," Dan laughed suddenly and I realized for once he was sober, "sorry I took so long, went to take a leak then I thought why not get a drink aswell and then I was arrested and the I had to convince Minelli to let me go or you'd die. I even got him to give me his gun and a pair of handcuffs."

I sat up stiffly and saw he was waving a gun in his hand, I swallowed nervously trying to console myself that at least it would be quick. I didn't have the stength to run and I couldn't speak to try convince him to let me go. Dan approached me and pressed the gun against my head, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Cheer up Patrick, I'd give anything to be dead. Then I'd be in heaven with Angie, you'll go to hell of course, but I'd be in heaven with my beautiful wife..." Dan explained sadly but an idea seemed to come to him, "why not kill myself too? I'll probably end up in jail anyway and if I kill myself than at least I can be her. Wait that'd never work, she'd be mad I'd left behind the kids," his eyes lit up but I had a horrible sinking feeling, "why not kill them to? Then we can all go to heaven with Angie -except you, you'll be in hell- but we'll be in heaven."

I opened my eyes to see him smiling as he knelt beside me moving the gun away from my head. I tried to tell him it was a bad idea but I couldn't speak still! Why did my voice abandon me when I needed it most? I suddenly felt something cold grasping my wrist, a handcuff. Dan had handcuffed my left wrist to his right wrist.

"So you can't escape, you're my barganing chip if Minelli finds me before I can get to the kids," Dan informed me standing up, I reluctantly did the same, "I'm so excited to see Angie again!"

He moved over to the rent a car and pushed it forwards, straining until it rolled into the river in front of it. I glanced at my surroundings, loads of tall trees strectched around skywards around me while the huge river meandered it's way past. I had seen it before from some of the roads... we must be a way out from the town.

Dan half dragged me to Angela's SUV and shoved me in the driver's side, I shifted to the passanger side as climbed in and slammed the door. I groaned inwardly as my mind attempted to think of a plan but I had nothing, no ideas nothing to use and I couldn't even speak. I sighed, we were doomed...


	52. Chapter 52: Reunion

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **Hello readers! This chapter is slightly better and the next one is all action, finally what I origionally planned is happening! I was so excited I carried on with the next chapter but you have to wait for it, 2 updates is spoling you rotten! Also thanks to my awesome reviewers rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed and Eternal Darkness007 for revewing, hope you like the chapter :)

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Dan was humming merrily to himself as we pulled up outside of a liquor store, he half dragged me out of the car to buy himself some bottles. I had a resigned feeling of doom, I knew I was going to die I had known for days but I really wasn't going to care until it actually happened. I still tried vainly to think of some way out of this, at least for the Lisbons.

"Had to get some booze, been awhile since I last drank. More than 24 hours, imagine!" he exclaimed as he paid for the goods and went back to the SUV.

We carried on our journey and in the time it took us to get to from the store to the elementary school he had already downed an entire bottle of Jack Daniels. I couldn't help but hate him, his kind expected pity because they had lost their wife but drowning their sorrows clearly didn't work and abusing their own children? How could anyone do that to Teresa? And her brothers, Chris was five! I tried not to think of the similarities between my Dad and him as I went inside with him.

Any hope I had of the principal not allowing him to pull Matt and Chris out of school was dashed by the principal's incessant eagerness to be helpful, he did actually pity him. Dan's thick jacket covered the handcuffs and he introduced me as a cousin visiting, he said Teresa had taken a turn for the worse and needed Chris and Matt to be there. I couldn't exactly contradict him, still being mute. Damn my weakness!

"Daddy?" questioned Chris uncertainly before he noticed me, "Patrick! Patrick!" he exclaimed hurtling towards me as he hugged me tightly crying quietly, "I... was... scared... you... were... dead!" he wailed miserably.

Dan immediately shoved him away glaring furiously at his youngest son, "shut up Christopher if you want him to stay alive."

"Who's... Christopher?" he sniffed before Matt joined us.

While Matt had more control of his emotions he still gave me a relieved smile when he saw him, I couldn't help but feel touched by their concern especially Matt who had hated me a short while ago.

"Come on then," ordered Dan as he led us back to the SUV.

"Where are we going?" asked Chris after Dan drove off, starting on another bottle.

"To see Tessa and James," answered Dan smiling in a twisted way to rival John's.

"Can Patrick still not talk?" pressed Chris looking slightly disappointed when Dan was the one to answer and not me.

"No he cannot."

"Why do you hate him? Why do you keep hurting him? He saved my life twice and everyone's," protested Chris corageously and my heart went out for him.

"Why don't you shut up?!" growled Dan, "Matt make him be silent, I want silence!"

He got silence as Chris shut up as we continued our journey to the hospital, by the time we swerved into the parking lot he was drunk. This may or may not be used to my advantage, I noticed trying to force my exhausted mind to work as we strolled in there and up the corridors to Teresa's room. I couldn't help but smile inwardly at the thought of seeing her again.

She was sleeping when we got there, her eyes were closed and her expression peaceful as she lay comfortably in the hospital bed. Her monitor beeped and her chest gently rose and fell indicating she was actually alive, it was the happiest I'd been in days. Dan only grunted as he shook her violently awake, I saw her eyes widen and her heartrate increased as he clasped his hand over her mouth.

"Do not scream, 'kay?" he slurred and she hesitantly nodded as her eyes found me, "ge' dressed," he commanded removing his hand.

"What if I don't?" she whispered defiantly.

"Patrick dies," he sneered showing her the gun at his hip, her face whitened and she nodded slowly. Dan took us back to the door and faced outwards to allow her some privacy to change, a few minutes passed before she joined us hugging me tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she murmered into my ear, "I'm so sorry about all of this, I bet you wish you'd never met me."

I pulled away quickly and violently shook my head to tell her it was not true before hugging her again, I hoped she understood.

"Quit with tha' huggin'!" snapped Dan yanking me away, "we gotta go ge' James."

So he led us down the corridors in the direction of James' room, I noticed a short nurse passing us with a bobby pin in her hair. I grabbed it quickly as Madam Bella's lessons came back to me, she'd taught me how to escape from handcuffs with one as had Cragen in case of either I was arrested or simply to help him escape in his magic act.

"Why'd you steal that woman's bobby pin?" Teresa asked me quietly so Dan wouldn't hear, I nodded to the handcuffs and comprehension dawned on her.

My plans of escape were ruined when we reached James' room however where Albert also was sitting, with a black eye from Dan's attack on him earlier. Now him I did pity, poor guy'd lost his wife, his daughter before discovering his grandkids were being abused and their lives were endangered before having Dan beat the crap put of him! Poor guy.

"Patrick thank goodness you're alive," he exclaimed genuinely relieved, "Teresa why are you out of bed? Dan let Patrick go."

"No!" snarled Dan angrily grabbing the key to the handcuffs and flinging it out of sight, "them's is my kids an' they're comin' with me. Get dressed James."

"Dan, look Teresa and James need more time to recove-"

"They'll be fine," interrupted Dan firmly.

"I'll call Minelli."

"Go ahead," challenged Dan pulling out the gun and pointing it at my head as he pulled me closer to him, "but Patrick will die."

Albert gulped nervously as his frail face paled as the hopelessness of the situation dawned on him. James had pulled the curtain across and was presumably getting changed already, I swallowed equally nervously I really didn't like guns anymore.

"At least tell me what do you want with them?" pleaded Albert desperately.

"None o' your buissness," replied Dan sharply.

"Why are you doing this?" Albert said instead looking utterly miserable.

"It's for the best," Dan answered firmly before James pulled back the curtain dressed, he looked paler and thinner than normal but alive none the less. For now...


	53. Chapter 53: Doomed?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **This chapter was so exciting to write! I couldn't make you wait any longer so here's your update, warning again pretty dark chapter. Thanks so much to rigspeltforeverxx for revewing, hope its epic enough :)

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"I'm gonna leave, you stay or I'll kill Patrick. Understand old man?" growled Dan and Albert hesitantly nodded.

"I love you Grampa," offered James as he walked over to the door, "no matter what happens I love you okay?"

"I know James, I love you too. I love you both and the younger ones," Albert replied tearfully, fearing it would be the last time he'd see his precious grandchildren again. I wasn't so sure he was wrong.

"I love you to Grampa," agreed Teresa before Dan dragged me out and they had to follow. I kept the bobby ping grasped tightly in my non-handcuffed hand awaiting my chance as we went to the car and got inside.

"Tessa! James!" exclaimed Chris happily as they squeezed into the back seat, "I'm so happy to see you," he added as we drove off, Dan starting on yet another bottle of booze.

"Where are we going?" asked James.

"To see your Mom. Don't you kids miss yer Mom?" slurred Dan in reply.

"Of course," protested Chris, "but isn't she dead?"

"An' dead peoples go to heaven," he explained before glancing quickly at me, "or hell."

"Are we going to bring her back to life?" Chris questioned innocently, he had no idea what the rest of us had probably already realized.

"No. We're gonna go ta heaven too," Dan continued smiling again, "except Patrick, you are gonna go ta hell."

"Don't you have to be dead to go to those places?" Chris pressed but I think it was slowly dawning on him even as the sun was slowly setting.

"Exactly," said Dan, "we're all going to be dead."

There was a moment's silence before Chris exploded into tears, incoherrently yelling how he didn't want anyone to die. Teresa was calming him down and I could only imagine the faces of James and Matt.

I decided now was a good a time as any to try escape via the bobby pin but Dan was still drinking and his driving was becoming more erratic, it was all I could do to hold in the non-cuffed hand, his driving was so bad. The SUV was almost completely out of control now as it swung from side to side on a straight road.

Then a car appeared round a bend, Dan attempted to avoid it but in doing so lost what little control he had left. The SUV crashed off the road and rolled violently, screams of Lisbons rang in my ears as the car rolled or bounced or something. I wasn't sure as I was jolted forcefully around the SUV, if I could have screamed I would have. The car finally came to a smashingly hideous stop.

I opened my dizzy eyes and noted an intense pain coming from my right hand and wrist, I glanced over at it and realized the limb had shattered the window and was cut he up pretty bad. I unclenched my fist without thinking and the bobby pin fell from my grip. Damn. My attention was taken by water, icily cold water was seeping and pouring into the vehicle. We were sinking. Damn!

I turned my attention to Teresa and her brothers and I looked back feeling relieved they were okay, Teresa's face mirrored my mixture of relief and fear. They seemed OK, shaken clearly but they were moving and turning their terrified white faces at us in askance of what to do.

"We need to get out of here," Teresa announced attempting and succeeding to sound calm, "how's Dad?"

I glanced back at Dan and if I hadn't of had an empty stomach it would be now, Dan was dead. His bottle of Jack Daniels was sticking out of his head, blood was everywhere... I turned away hurridly shutting my eyes to attempt to shut out the horrific image.

"Patrick?" Teresa whispered gently placing a hand on my arm, "is he... dead?" I forced myself to not in reply, "are you sure? Check his pulse?"

I shakily opened my eyes and forced myself to look back at Dan as I pressed my fingers against the rough warm skin. There was no pulse. I shot my hand away as if burned and shook my head repeatedly squeezing my eyes shut again.

"Okay... we can't worry about that now, we have to get to land okay? Can everyone remember how to swim?" Teresa asked taking charge, she was a born leader. We all nodded save Chris who looked out of his mind with fear, "it's okay we can help you," she offered gently and I noted the water had already submersed me up to my shoulder, Chris to his neck, "on three we swim okay? 1, 2, 3!"

And with that the water seemed to swallow them as Teresa forced open her door and they swam out of it. I attempted to follow but was stopped by something grabbing my wrist, I was still handcuffed to Dan. I was handcuffed to a dead man, and we were sinking.

I felt a chill seep through every last fibre of my body, I wasn't sure if it was from the algid water almost at my mouth or from the realization of my situation. Dan had thrown away the key, I had lost the bobby pin and I was handcuffed to a corpse sinking in Angela's SUV. I was going to die.

I lone tear trekked down my cheek to mingle with the water rapidly engulfing me, at least Teresa and her brothers were going to be okay. It was like a single flickering flame attempting to melt a glacier but it still gave me some hope as I took the deepest breath I ever had as the water went above my head.

I adjusted my eyes to the dim murky blackness of the water, I blinked uselessly to see. That was when I felt something gently shake my other arm, I looked to see Teresa there looking concerned. She looked at me in askance of why hadn't I followed them, I tugged my arm and the handcuffs held me back. She saw though and mimed picking the door lock, in reply I clenched my fist and held it over the open window before miming dropping it. She instantly dived.

I wanted to call her back but I knew it was pointless so I sat numbly in the freezing glacial water that filled the car now as I attempted to hold my breath as Cragen had taught me. I noticed Angela/Teresa's cross still glinting on my wrist, I held it up and looked at it. I wanted to give it back to her almost as much as I wanted to breath.

Teresa reappeared suddenly and shoved the bobby pin back at me, I grabbed it gratefully as hope surged through me. Teresa kicked away to the surface obviously in need of air, not surprisingly. I concentrated on breaking out of the handcuffs, it's alot harder to bend a piece of metal under water and with a bloody stinging hand to boot.

My lungs screamed at me for air louder than the Lisbon's screams before as I frantically attempted to work my `magic.` I finally had it and went to use it on the handcuffs, it took a few tries before it opened gently and I fled out through the opening where my window had been.

That flicker of hope had alighted a roaring flame as I swam weakly for the surface my lungs still begged me for air, I wanted to breath so much, so much it hurt. I had to.

My mouth opened and water flowed in, filling my lungs as I kicked ferociously to the surface, kicked towards what was left of the setting sun. Darkness started to consume my vision, NO! I couldn't die, I was so close. I was so close! The surface seemed to get no closer but the darkness grew stronger, seeming to drag me back down into the doomed depths below.

I fought, I swear I fought. I fought with every remaining ounce of strength that remained. I fought harder than I ever had fought before. But it wasn't enough, I couldn't fight any harder and it wasn't hard enough. The atramentous water consumed my life.

My heart stopped beating.

I died...

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**Author's Note: **Anyone think I should end the story here...?


	54. Chapter 54: Dead or Alive

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **I was just messing with you, you didn't honestly think I would leave the story there did you? I am kind of overwhelmed though by all your reviews, THANK YOU so much! I had no idea so many people loved this story :) that's the most reviews I have ever had for one chapter and now I have 200 reviews for this story! I am so happy :) thank you so much to Helvetica Bold, JisbonvsCaskett, Eternal Darkness007, unknown, LOLY POP XD, Lisbon94, fairygirl44, Sophie Fatale, Dr Kevorkian, rigspeltforeverxx, The Teal Dragon, Me, Simonisthecutestmentalist, Lisa and jisbon-sessed! I'll shut up now so you can read, hope you like...

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_I walked onto the shore feeling unbelievably refreshed and relieved, no longer was I hungry or thirsty or in pain. I was completely fine. It was so weird I thought as I spied James and Chris huddled together._

"It's okay Chris, they're okay," James told him soothingly but Chris cried harder.

"I... d-d...on't wa-wa...nt T-T...essie and P-P...atrick to die!" Chris sobbed and James hugged him tighter and I noticed tears gleaming unshed in his own emerald eyes.

_I realized they must be so engrossed in their worry they hadn't noticed me standing there but where was Teresa? And Matt? Gone for help maybe? But Teresa should have reached the surface. I had anyway, in fact I had even dried off by now._

_It dawned on me it was weird as I walked over towards them, my footsteps seemed unsuallly quiet, silent even. How weird, maybe almost drowning had screwed my mind up. Hell I'd been through so much recently I was not surprised my senses seemed a little skewed._

"Patrick?" questioned James looking at me finally, no more like looking through me... I scowled at him worridly.

"I-Is he okay?" asked Chris in barely more than a whisper.

_I was utterly bewildered now as both of them seemed not to have noticed me, they looked past me like I was not even there. I heard a splash behind me and turned to see Teresa coming out of the water, relief replaced me frustration. She was okay, everything was okay._

_Then I noticed the body, she was half-dragging a body to the shore. It's feet dragged along as she attempted it to get it to the shore. Odd how she was trying to save a random body... odd it was waring the same sneakers and clothes I was... odd how they had a mop of blond curls like I had._

_I refused to believe the obvious even as I had this dread that seeped into a crack of my resolve as she brought the limp body to the shore and lay it down as gently as possible onto the sandy riverside ground. It was me._

_I knelt down and stared in amazement at myself, it was so odd looking at myself sprawled onto the ground. I stared in a stunned daze at myself, my eyes were closed and I was damp. For some reason I hated the fact I was still covered in water, the same cruel water that had taken my life. It was almost mocking the fact it had murdered me._

_I was dead._

_I felt kind of detached as I thought that, this was just impossibly unreal. I glanced at the cross still wrapped around my bloodied wrist, at least Teresa could get it back. It meant so much to her, but I must have meant more as she was kneeling there shivering slightly. She looked as numb as I felt as she tenderly checked my pulse._

_"_No," she whispered in a barely audible voice.

"Patrick?" questioned Chris moving closer and shaking my arm, "I think he's cold, and he must be tired."

"He's dead Chris," James told him simply as tears rolled down his face, Chris just looked hurt as he looked back, "he-he's gone."

"NO!" screamed Teresa so loudly and so suddenly I jumped to my feet to move backwards in shock, "he is not dead, he's going to wake up! We can give him CPR, James you know CPR?!"

_With that she started her feeble attempt to save my life, it was very sad. So sad to watch as she tried to breath air back into my lifeless body which James weakly did the chest compressions. They were trying to save a corpse, I was here it was pointless. Chris seemed to agree with me as he sat curled into a wall observing them quietly with a look of absolute guilt._

"He's dead Tessie," Chris muttered as if trying to force himself to believe.

"NO!" Teresa repeated sounding almost hysterical, "he is not dead, I need you Patrick. You have to live, you have to understand?" she cried miserably, "you're the best friend I've ever had, don't leave me please. Fight, fight for me okay?"

"He's gone to live with Mommy and Grandma in heaven with Jesus and the angels," Chris continued trying to convince himself everything was okay, "it's all a lie isn't it? He's just dead. I'm sorry Patrick, I'm sorry... I had no idea stealing that money would make you be dead. I'm sorry!" Chris yelled before breaking into sobs.

_"It's not your fault Chris," I told him gently even though I knew he could not hear me._

_"Just as I know it was not your fault," said a familiar voice and I turned to see Angela standing there._

_"Why...?" I gasped in shock._

_"I like to keep watch on my children, I like to know that they're okay," Angela explained smiling slightly._

_"I'm sorry about the cross, getting you killed... I'm sorry."_

_"It's not your fault anymore than it is Chris' about you," she informed me still smiling gently and finally I felt the full burden of guilt lifted from my shoulders, "I told you my kids were amazing didn't I? I love them so much, I am so proud of that."_

_"Good for you," I muttered half-heartedly, "so am I really dead? I never believed in the afterlife... unless this is a hallucination and I am not quite dead yet? I'm having one of those weird near death experience hallucinations?"_

_"Whatever you prefer to believe," she shrugged and tried not to laugh, "goodbye Patrick, oh and if you `stop-having-this-weird-near-death-experience-hallucination` tell them about my mother's cancer, it'll make Dad feel better."_

_"I will... if I live and thank you for being so kind to me," I offered and she smiled before vanishing._

_I blinked and glanced back to my body which Matt was running towards closely followed by Sam Bosco was it? And his mother. She knelt down beside me and immediately began a much more refined version of CPR while Sam yelled down a cell phone for paramedics. I found myself wandering further away before someone's hand fell on my shoulder. Panicked I spun to see my Mom standing there._

_"Mom?" I questioned so quietly I feared she wouldn't hear me but she nodded slightly before embracing me gently, "I know you're just a part of my hallucination but I love you."_

_"I love you too Patrick," she whispered back and she sounded tearful, "I love you so much, my precious son..." her voice trailed off and she pulled away a hint of a smile on her beautiful face before she pushed me gently away._

I spluttered as I sat bolt upright coughing out water as I gasped, gulping down lungfuls of much needed air. I felt unbelievably dizzy as I took some deep desperate breaths, my body quivered shakily as I blinked away my blurry vision and tried to pay attention to the muffled sounds. I felt a stinging pain in my hand, I glanced at it seeing it was cut up and bloody still. It hurt, my head hurt, my body generally hurt and I was hungry, thirsty... I was alive! The weird hallucination was over! I was alive!

"Patrick?" mumbled Teresa as my hearing seemed to clear as my breathing became more steady, I turned to look at her tearstained face as she smiled weakly, "I cannot even begin to tell you how happy I am you are alive..."


	55. Chapter 55: Feels Good to be Alive

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist and get no money from this

**Author's Note: **I know its a short chapter but it's long awaited, seriously these last few chapters I had planned from the beginning. Did you know this story was only supposed to be a few chapters? 10 at most and now its on what 55? Lol! This isn't the last chapter btw. Thanks so much awesome reviewers! Eternal Darkness007, Simonisthecutestmentalist, LOLY POP XD, rigspeltforeverxx, jisbon-sessed, SSA Silver Moon, JisbonvsCaskett, The Teal Dragon, fairygirl44 anf Lisbon94, you are all awesome :) Much happier chapter this, hope you like! Also sorry for the late UD, homework and unco-operative laptop do not make a good combination :( sorry really long A/N, I'll shut up... now

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I nodded at her as a smile formed on my face, I reached out with my good hand and gripped it tightly to reassure us both I actually was alive. My breathing started to become easier but I was still shaking badly, not that I minded. I was alive and Teresa was alive and James and Matt and Chris, Dan wasn't but screw him the man was evil. I was alive!

"Patrick! Patrick! Patrick!" exclaimed Chris launching himself at me and squeezing me tightly, "I'm sooooo glad you're alive."

"That's great Chris... but can you quit hugging him to death?" offered James and Chris immediately jumped away looking worried.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" he asked concerned and I shook my head smiling when he let out a relieved breath.

"I'm glad you're alive too," added Matt hugging me except more gently.

"Here, put these on till the ambulance gets here," said Sam handing us some blankets which we all appreciatively wrapped around our shivering bodies.

I tried to tell him and his Mom I was grateful to them for saving my life but my voice stil failed me, it didn't bother me that much at the moment. I glanced at Teresa who was watching me intently with a look of pure relief, I shuffled closer to her and she gave me a smile squeezing my hand gently.

"Still can't speak?"

I shook my head.

"I don't care," she announced, "I still lo...ook at you the same."

I scowled inwardly at her stumbling over words, weird. I didn't care though, it didn't matter. I surveyed the rest of us, James was looking expressionlessly at the raging river rippling beside us, Matt was watching us intently while Sam's mother was talking to Chris as if trying to keep him entertained while Sam was talking on the cell. I heard him say Minelli before he drifted out of earshot.

I noticed the necklace in my wrist. I fumbled with it to get it off then after some more fumbling with bloody, damp and cold fingers I eventually got it in its rightful place around her neck. I sat back opposite her smiling that I had finally suceeded, she looked at it curiously for a minute and I studied her thinking of how much she meant to me.

"I love you," a voice told her and as her head shot up to look at me I realized two things, one I had my voice back and two that it was true. I did love her more than anything.

"I love you too," she said evenly before grinning shyly, "you have no idea how long I have wanted to say that to you," and with that she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. My heart soared at my first kiss and I felt slightly giddy with delight Teresa loved me too.

"What does your crush think of that?" I couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know, what do you think of that?"

"What... I was your crush?" I questioned feeling puzzled and she only laughed.

"How can someone so observant be so blind?"

Whatever respones my mind attempted to formulate was lost in the arrival of the ambulance in a flurry of noice and light. We were hurried into the thing and looked at medically before speeding away to the now familiar hospital, more doctors. I wasn't particulary pleased but I endured, it gave me a chance to think over the events of the past few hours.

I still felt a kind of odd joy at being alive and felt happy without Angela's death on my concioncess. I still couldn't decide whether the whole thing with her and my Mom was real or some kind of hallucination. Considering my lack of belief I opted to go with a hallucination but it didn't stop me feeling... good. What didn't I have to live for? I was young, I had my voice back, I was `psychic,`I had friends, I had family and Teresa. My head started spinning when I thought of her and what we had said and the kiss. I wanted so much to be talking to her right now but, oh well. All in good time.

I waited in my room humming Teresa's favorite song to myself, I wasn't exactly sure what or who I was waiting for. My Dad would probably be a good person to wait for, but he hadn't appeared. No one had for awhile, I wondered where he was but a doctor came in and gave me somthing saying it'd help me sleep.

I opened my mouth to say I'd rather stay awake and that I felt alot better, it was probably adrenaline making me feel better but still, I had barely opened my mouth before my vision started to swim. I watched the room swirl into a kind of vortex before it carried me away off to a peaceful sleep...


	56. Chapter 56: Minelli's News

**Disclaimer: **Come on you must know I don't own the mentalist by now? And if I got any money from this I would have bought season 1 on DVD by now

**Author's Note: **Here's your update! Thanks so much to rigspeltforeverxx, SSA Silver Moon, Simonisthecutestmentalist and LOLY POP XD for reviewing :) Read on...

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"Patrick?" hissed a man's voice and my eyes immediately sprang open to see Minelli standing there watching me worridly.

"What?" I croaked wondering if my voice was always going to sound like that or if it would go back to normal, at least I could speak though. That was a plus.

"Thank god you're alive," exlaimed Minelli letting out a relieved breath and from the rings under his eyes I could tell he hadn't been sleeping well and he looked like he'd been in a fight from the cut and bruises on his face, "I brought you some clothes, I need you to get dressed and come with me."

"What? Why?" I demanded before panic choked me, "did something happen to my Dad?"

"No, well yes, kind of but not what you think and this doesn't have anything to do with him," Minelli answered and my panic turned to curiosity.

"Where is my Dad?"

"Jail," Minelli told me rather stiffly, "he... was acting... difficult. Kept telling me... you're disappearance was my fault and demanding to know why I hadn't found you yet, etc. And... err... after he found out I let Daniel Lisbon go... he kindof... attacked me so... we had to arrest him and he is still in the cells."

I gaped at him for a minute imaging my Dad's seething temper and the wrath he'd unleashed on poor Minelli, while I pitited Minelli it was sweet that my Dad had been worried about me.

"Are you going to take me to him?" I questioned turning my thoughts to puzzling why Minelli wanted me to come with him.

"No... I'm going to take you to see Red John."

"WHAT?" I yelled sitting bolt upright as my heart began pounding again, "are you insane?"

"Patrick I know you don't want to-"

"Of course I don't want to! He's insane, he tried to kill Teresa and her brothers and my Dad," I interrupted.

"I know that's why he's in a mental institution, but I really need you to come see him."

"I'm not going," I informed him stubbornly folding my arms.

"He wants to see you."

"I don't care!"

"Stop inturrupting and I'll explain! Look Patrick... another boy is missing, a friend of that Michael boy he killed and Red John claims to have kidnapped him-"

"By kidnapped you mean dead," I muttered cynically but it was the most logical explanation if I knew John, which unfortunately I did.

"He swears he's alive and will tell us where he's holding him but he will only tell you, only speak directly to you... you have to help."

I groaned miserably, why had I ever gotten involved with him? The thought of having to see him again filled me with dark dread and it was pointless the boy was almost certainly dead, long before Teresa's brother's had been kidnapped. I shivered remembering that night. Hannah's body... The phone call... James' agonizing scream... Racing to the house with Wayne... James bleeding on the floor... I remembered the bloody knife in John's hand as he lunged at Teresa, the defening boom of Minelli's gun... I closed my eyes but the images became even more solid... Teresa so deathly pale and gasping for breath... the sticky scarlet on my hands... the bloody face staring at me, boring its bloody eyes into my skull...

"Patrick? Are you okay?" Minelli asked concerned and I opened my eyes again.

"I don't want to go."

"Please Patrick?" Minelli begged, "this kid doesn't have alot of time left and you're the only one who can save him."

"He's probably already dead."

"We figured you were dead too, should we have given up looking for you?"

"You didn't find me anyway, I was locked in the trunk of a car for days..." I trailed off shakily blinking away tears as I thought of that awful time.

"Patrick," Minelli continued in a much gentler tone, "I know you've been through alot recently and I have no right to ask you, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate but please... you're the only one who can possible save him."

I looked at Minelli's pleading eyes then turned away guiltily, every rational part of my mind told me not to agree to this but on the other hand... did I really want another death on my conscience?

"I'll go," I whispred quietly and Minelli grinned on the edge of my vision before placing a pile of clothes before me.

"Thank you Patrick, get dressed I'll be right outside," Minelli said leaving to give me some privacy.

I sighed deeply as I dragged myself out of bed and forced my reluctant body to change into the clothes Minelli had given me. My high spirits had been plunged again into melancholy as I dressed and mentally prepared myself for the meeting. My expression was grim as I went with Minelli to his car.

I had no idea where this place was but I hoped it was far. I wondered why he wanted to see me. Was he angry with me? Did he have some plan to kill me? Or did he still think we were friends? I had no idea what to expect Minelli pulled the car to a hault outside the building.

My dread was only worsened by the large ugly building looming before me, all the windows seemed dark and even the wide walls had grayed with time and weather conditions. The dark gray clouds behind it just made everything feel more apprehensive as did the icy chill in the air.

I summoned all my courage and followed Minelli into the buillding, it had the same drab grayish walls inside with cracked gray tiles on the wall. The seemingly endless corridors were ominous and it didn't help our footsteps echoed loudly in the surprisingly quiet building.

I couldn't help but glance at some of the patients in the rooms, one man was wrapped in a straight jacket rocking backwards and forwards as his buldging eyes stared madly ahead while another stared directly at me with such an intense harted.

We stopped outside a room and to try calm myself I looked out of the window and immediately regretted it. The gray clouds had parted to reveal a bloody dawn sky, I don't believe in superstitions but I shuddered anyway.

"Hi I'm Dr Sophie Miller," said a young blonde doctor cheerfully as she came from one of the corridors, "he's in there whenever you're ready but don't expect much response, he doesn't speak and scarcely moves even."

"Thank you. Go on Patrick," Minelli commanded and I forced my trembling hand to grip the dulled silver doorknob and open it.

I saw John sitting at a table in the centre of the room, he was wearing one of those blue jumpsuits associated with these places. His face was blank and he didn't even bat an eyelid when I entered. His dark hair was as neat as ever and he stared unblinking at the corner of the room. I sat down in the metal chair opposite him and gulped when the door closed behind me.

To my surprise a twisted smile immediately formed on his lips and he spun fully alert again to face me and look at me with his dead eyes, devoid of any kind of warmth or feeling. When he spoke his voice was clear and cheeful.

"Hello Patrick..."


	57. Chapter 57: Conversation

**Disclaimer: **Come on you must know I don't own the mentalist by now? And if I got any money from this I would have bought season 1 on DVD by now

**Author's Note: **Sorry its taken me so long to update, the laptop tried to commit suicide but my Dad fixed it hooray! Yeah so thank you to LOLY POP XD, Dr. Kevorkian, jisbon-sessed and Simonisthecutestmentalist for reviewing :) Hope you like...

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"Where's the kid?" I asked immediately wanting to be gone from there.

"Patrick, you didn't even say hello," he scolded smiling.

"What do you expect?" I snapped glaring at him.

"I forgive you, so I expect you to forgive me."

"Whatever, just tell me where the kid is."

"What kid?" he inquired innocently.

"One of Mick's gang... I don't know his name, the one you killed."

"But if I tell you that you will go and I won't be able to talk to you, I missed you Patrick," he said seriously.

"At least admit he's dead."

"If you tell me what happened to you, you weren't injured when you left the old Bosco house."

"You want to know? Thanks to you Daniel Lisbon tried to strangle me to death, the he locked me and the trunk of a car and then he crashed the car and I drowned to death. Happy?" I told him angrily and for once he looked shocked.

"The bastard! Consider him a corpse."

"He's already a corpse," I muttered trying not to shudder at the memory.

"Oh. Did you kill him?" John asked excitedly.

"No! He killed himself, died in the crash and nearly took us all with him."

"The other Lisbons are still alive I take it?" he asked looking clamer to which I nodded, "what about Albert? Is he an abusive drunk yet?"

"What?"

"Well think about it, everybody I know who's wife died becomes abusive and starts drinking. Has it happened to him yet?"

"No John and it's not going to, not everybody is evil you know."

"I know but there's no good without bad."

"I'm not here to discuss philosophy, just tell me where he is I want to go home."

"We never get what we want," John said firmly, "you have to take it."

"John, in your mind we are friends. I am asking you as a friend to tell me where you left this poor kid's body."

"In my mind?" he laughed, "sounds like something I'd say to these dumb insane people, crazies are so easy to manipulate even the grown ups like Orville."

"Just tell me John," I practically begged.

He went silent and staried at me expressionlessly with his dark eyes, I hoped he was thinking of telling me and not about killing. I shivered despite myself thinking of the bloody smiley faces he loved drawing on the walls and the innocent people he had killed.

"I've decided to start a clean slate, I will not try and kill your Dad or the Lisbons or your other friends," he said finally.

"Okay," I muttered slowly.

"But if you ever cross me again Patrick, I swear I will kill everyone you care about. Understand?" he told me darkly and I could tell he was being completely serious.

"I understand."

"Good," he announced suddenly cheerful, "well its been an honor to know you and I hope we will meet again someday. The boy is alive, I will take you to him."

"You were lying when you said he was alive," I pointed out suddenly suspicious.

"Was I?" he smirked.

"Patrick stop insulting him," snapped Minelli rushing into the room, "come on, we have to save him."

"Just us three, nobody else," John demanded.

"But-"

"Not scared a little kid could get away from you, are you Virgil?" he mocked.

"Agent Minelli, I am strongly against this!" protested Sophie following behind him, "you cannot go around taking away mental patients from asylums, he needs help."

"This is the life of a child, we are talking about."

"He's lying! The child is dead, I promise you you're chasing a ghost," I interjected.

"If Patrick's wrong and I'm not lying then his blood will be on your hands," John told Minelli calmly and the agent looked torn.

"I have to hope he's alive. Get me a straight jacket," Minelli informed us and Sophie reluctantly left to comply.

"Then you're a fool. I'm not going with you," I told him stubbornly.

"If you don't come with me I'll charge your Dad with child abuse, fraud, parental neglect and anything else I can think of."

"Those charges are bogus, you can't prove anything!"

"Red John does Patrick's Dad abuse him?"

"Yes."

"No! Minelli, you can't do this," I screamed almost hysterically as my heart began thundering again.

"Patrick I have to. It's your choice, find this boy or your Dad can rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life," Minelli offered.

"I'll go," I agreed reluctantly with an awful feeling of dread welling in my gut, "but I promise you something is going to go horribly wrong..."


	58. Chapter 58: Red John's House

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist

**Author's Note: **Sorry its taken me so long to update, evil laptop :( On a brighter note thanks to avidfan23, rigspeltforeverxx, Simonisthecutestmentalist, Dr. Kevorkian, Lisbon94 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) btw as to the Lisbons, you will find out about them soon. Just not this chapter.

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"Agent Minelli I say again that this is a bad idea, I strongly recommend against you removing the patient," Sophie continued to rant as she followed us out to the car.

"Recommendation noted. Why do you want this poor boy to die so badly?" Minelli growled in reply as he put John in the back seat.

"He's already dead," I pointed out.

"Shut up both of you!" Minelli snapped glaring at us.

"What you hope and reality are different things Minelli, just because you want him to be alive doesn't mean he is."

"Get in the car," he said firmly with a dark look and I reluctantly got into the car with Minelli following suit, "please Minelli, you have to believe me."

"Patrick you're an 11 year old child who knows nothing about anything," Minelli informed me as he started the car and drove off, "so where are we going?"

I sensed rather than saw John's twisted smile in the backseat, he gave Minelli directions which the agent followed intently. I simply watched the thick gray clouds smothering the sky above us. You didn't have to be psychic to know this was only going to end badly, as long as you weren't Virgil Minelli you knew. Why had I even come?

"Stop," John announced and Minelli obidently pulled over by the side of the road, it occured to me that we seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. It was reminiscent of the land where Dan had left me... I shivered at the memory as I joined the other two outside the car.

"We don't seem to be near anywhere," Minelli commented to himself.

"Do you want to find your nephew alive or not?" John inquired politely, "personally I don't care if the boy dies."

"OKay, okay so which way do we go?"

"How about we get back in the car and just go home?" I offered gaining a glare from Minelli and a grin from John.

"This way," announced John leading the way into the large trees standing mutely all around as we followed John blindly, "any chance you can remove this strait jacket? The trail is a bit steep and I need my hands to get through it quickly."

"Well... okay."

"What? Minelli!" I screeched panicked as Minelli released John, "he's a serial killer!"

"Patrick, time is a factor," he explained as we carried on into the dark depths of th forest.

I lost track of time as wondered seemingly randomly through the trees, Minelli followed along like a little lost puppy and while I was slightly more sympathetic to the fact it was his nephew, he was still dead and John was still playing him. I wished I knew how big this forest actually was as the supply of trees was endless and I was constantly ducking the gnarled branches which had twisted their way onto out path.

I had become very mindful of the fact I hadn't recovered from the effects of being in the truck, my limbs screamed constantly in protest at their sudden usage and stomach growled with unquenced hunger. I spoke of this to Minelli but he simply ignored me and resumed following John through what I realized the thinning trees. I felt a tight knot twist in relief of nearing the end of the forest and of dread for whatever escape plan John had concocted finally coming to a head.

Outside the forest there was a grim looking house gazing at us coldly, the icy wind rattled against the shutters and the front door flung itself open and shut causing a loud thump everytime it did so.

"This is my house," John said quietly staring at it transfixed, "its been in my family for generations, Dad inherited it from my Uncle when he died and we lived there."

"There's a couple living there now," Minelli stated as we slowly made our way across the barren land to John's house, "you can drive here taking a different road, why make us walk?"

"It's my house," John repeated with an angry undertone ignoring Minelli's second statement.

"It's very nice," I mumbled sarcastically, in truth it was an ugly old house with insane looking gargoyles dotted around the roof.

"I hate it," John said blandly, "the buildings so disgusting I want to retch everytime I see it. It's far away from the town so no one can hear you scream."

Minelli shot John an odd look as we reached the cold stone slabs passing for steps the door still being blown open and shut by the powerful wind. The wind seemed the only thing making a sound in the stillness of the building, it occured to me these owners were probably dead.

"Is there anyone home?" Minelli called loudly to be heard over the wind.

"John, did you kill the owners?" I asked nervously and his expression was impassive as he replied.

"It's my house."

Minelli either didn't hear what we'd said or decided to ignore it as he walked up the steps and held the door revealing a bloody smiley face staring back at us from the wall at the end of the corridor. I heard Minelli gulp as he went into the house with us trailing behind him.

The corridor was bare of all but the basic furniture and devoid of belongings or warmth. The whole place was devoid of warmth I noted shivering before a powerful reek choked my sense of smell. I wrinkled my nose and looked to the left where the front room door was wide open revealing a rotting corpse of some woman, I swallowed my bile and looked to the right where the wide open door revealed the rotting body of a man.

"They're dead," John stated as Minelli rushed into both rooms and checked their pulses.

"You killed them?" Minelli commented sadly rejoining us.

"I had to get their stuff out of my house and they refused," John told us deadpan, coldness radiated from his eyes as he spoke sending shivers done my spine, "its _my_ house."

"Where is the boy?" asked Minelli quietly.

"This way," John murmered as he led us mutely down the corridor to the equally empty kitchen with a door leading to the basement, "Patrick, I have a present for you," he added moving over to the side and opening the lid of a small wooden box, "come here."

"Where is the boy John?" Minelli repeared more forcefully as I hesitantly went over to John who handed me a couple of tiny scraps of a photograph.

"It's pieces from your Mom's picture, I found them for you," John told me kindly.

"JOHN!" snapped Minelli glowering as I focused on the tiny shards.

"Thank... you," I muttered gratefully as John moved away.

"Don't mention it Patrick, I told you you're my friend. He's in the basement Minelli."

I put the fragments in my pocket and turned to watch Minelli open the door and climb down the basement steps, too late I noticed John smile as he closed the door quickly and locked it. Seemingly in one motion he swallowed the key and grabbed a knife from the counter...


	59. Chapter 59: Red John's Demise

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist

**Author's Note: **Okay, I am really _really _sorry for the late update *ducks items thrown at head* but in my defense the laptop did die and then I had writer's block which didn't help *begs for forgiveness* in return I wrote you a longer chapter and its not on an evil cliffhanger, honest!  
Now that's out of the way I can thank all of my amazing reviewers! Dr. Kevorkian, rigspeltforeverxx, Jisbon4ever, Simonisthecutestmentalist, awesomenerd95 (well done for reading 58 chapters in 2 days!) and jisbon-sessed :) read on, or not it is kind of a creepy chapter...

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"John... why are you holding a knife?" I asked quietly backing towards the door slowly.

"What this thing?" John grinned glancing at the large glinting blade, "no particular reason, I just need to kill you of course."

"I thought we were friends?" I muttered swallowing nervously.

"We are but I've learned I have to tie up loose ends and besides, if I don't have any friends than I have nothing to hold me back," John explained calmly, "come on Patrick, dying can't be that bad. I gave you those picture pieces so you can be with your Mommy when you die, even if you don't believe in the afterlife."

"This is insane John, you can't kill me!"

"It's very easy actually, just slice the blade through your neck and then you'll be dead in seconds or if you'd prefer I could slide the blade through your heart," John offered smiling psychotically at me, "your choice Patrick, since we're friends."

"You don't have to kill me y'know? You could just let me live," I pleaded edging ever closer to the door which was my only means of escape.

"Patrick, if I let you live than you'll save Minelli and I can't have that now can I?" John continued still smiling.

No sooner had he finished speaking did he lunge at me with the knife, moving faster than I ever had I darted out the door and slammed it in his face behind me before racing blindly up the corridor. I cursed silently when I realized I'd ran in the wrong direction to the front door, no time to turn back I launched myself up the stairs and up onto the second floor.

I heard John's slow yet steady footsteps below and scanned desperately for someplace to hide but the narrow corridor was bare so I picked a random door and went inside the room as quietly as I could manage and hid in the cramped closet, leaving the door slightly ajar so I could see the door. I hoped my heart was not pounding as loudly as it felt as I waited in the darkness frantically searching for a plan, I had none.

"You can't hide forever Patrick," laughed John from somewhere else in the house, "come out, come out where ever you are... You're only delaying the inevitable my friend. You forget that this is my house and I know every last inch of it, I know all the best hiding places, and the worst. Face it, you're doomed."

"JOHN!" I heard Minelli's distant voice booming, "I've called for backup, let me and Patrick go or things will be bad for you!"

I would have expected John to at least be concerned by what Minellu had said but instead I heard his maniacal laughter echoing around the house, the slight sliver of hope I'd recieved was crushed. Obviously John knew something I didn't.

"Minelli that is impossible," John announced when his psychotic laughter had subsided, "you see this is my house and it has no phone lines nor has it any cell reception. You are simply bluffing in a pathetically vain effort to escape your fate."

"You are very smart for your age, so do the smart thing," Minelli's voice pressed, John was right, he obviously wasn't going to buy this but at least if John was distracted by conversation he wasn't trying to find me.

"Not every kid my age is gullible and materialistic," John's voice snapped, "and as to not killing you... Have you ever heard the tale of the scorpion and the frog? I'm sure Patrick has being from a carnival and all... Any comments Patrick? No? Anyway have you heard it Minelli?"

"No," came Minelli's distant frustrated sigh.

"Okay," John began and I noticed him standing outside the door clutching the knife tightly, "there's a scorpion and he wants to cross this river so he asks the frog if he can carry him across on his back, but the frog is afraid the scorpion will sting him. The scorpion assures him he won't because if he does then they both would drown, so the frog agrees and starts to carry him across the river. Halfway across the river the scorpion stings the frog, dooming them both and the frog says `why did you sting me? Now we're both going to die,` and do you know what the scorpion says?"

"What does he say?"

"The scorpion just says `I'm the scorpion, its my nature,`" John concluded, "we can't fight our natures Minelli, and mine says to kill you. You're going to die slowly down there in that basement, you might survive longer if you eat your nephews body. We'll just have to see won't we? You deserve it for trying to arrest me."

I surpressed a shiver at the calmness in John's words, he spoke as if talking of the weather or of what was on TV last night. I saw John's body turn and his free hand move to reach for the rusted old doorknob.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. Are you in here Patrick? Ready or not, here I come. I'm guessing you're in th-"

The rest of John's sentance was cut short by a explosive bang. Then another. Then another, then what sounded like someone kicking a door. I don't know how I managed not to jolt with shock. John did, his hand moved away instantly away from the door, I forced myself not to sigh at the slight reprieve.

"What the hell?" John demanded angrily.

"Next time don't lock someone away with a gun!" Minelli yelled, "now put down your weapon, ready or not here I come."

I heard Minelli's footsteps hurriedly moving as well as John's frustrated growl as he pushed into the room, and made straight for my hiding place. The closet door swung open and I was hauled to my feet while he grabbed me from behind and held the blade to my throat.

"That was a dumb hiding place," John hissed in my ear, "now don't struggle and you might survive this yet."

"Give it up John," I hissed tiredly back before Minelli reached us gun aimed at us.

"Go on shoot me Minelli, but you know Patrick will die too," John sneered and Minelli's eyes widened slightly in shock, "put down the gun and kick it towards me."

"Bu-"

"Now!" John snapped and Minelli hesitantly placed it on the floor and kicked it obidently towards us, "pick it up Patrick."

"No," I muttered and the knife pressed closed to my throat.

"Let's try this again, pick up the gun Patrick and then hand it to me," John repeated and I awkwardly bent and picked up the awful weapon, handing it immediately to John's free hand, "now Patrick and I are going to leave the room okay? Move aside Minelli."

"Bu-"

"Are you both bloody deaf? Move the hell aside or die!" he snarled furiously and Minelli reluctantly moved out of the way so John and I could pass. Once out in the hall John laxed his grip on the knife and turned to face Minelli, "oh I almost forgot," he smirked and shot Minelli with the gun.

I gasped in shock as he clutched at his side, crimson already flowing from his fingers. He fell to his knees and appeared to be trying to breath through the pain, I noticed the sick light of joy in the ice John had for eyes.

"Maybe not as slow as I'd hoped but should take you a few hours to die right?" John asked calmly, "now come Patrick, we have stuff to do."

John released me and I thought of running but the gun was pointed squarely at me, he nodded at the staircase and I shakily made my way down the steps with John following merrily behind.

"You said you wouldn't kill him," I stated as we reached the bottom of the stairs.

"I lied. Keep walking," John said in reply and I sighed miserably leaving the house with a heavy heart.

We walked for a while, John directing me through the less dense throng of trees and I realized afterawhile we were high, on a cliff overlooking the snaking river that ran through the town. I peered over the edge, it was a long way down into the torrent of rushing water.

"Are you going to kill me?" I asked blandly after awhile, my body was numbed by the frezing wind and my limbs were exhausted.

"No."

"You're lying."

"Yes, would you rather I just be honest with you?"

"You're insane John," I snapped angrily turning to face him, bored of the walking and the doomed feeling.

"They say you have to be insane to love in this mad world," John responded with a smirk, his red lips standing out on his pale windbattered face.

"If you're going to kill me just do it already," I told him calmly waiting, this was my only chance to get the gun away from him.

"That eager to die?" John scoffed idly waving the gun.

This was the chance I needed, I wasn't big on fighting but I had no choice. I jumped for the gun and due to John's momentarily distraction his grip was less and I suceeded in knocking it from his hand, it fell beside the edge of the cliff and we both threw ourselves at it sending it plummeting to the river below.

"I don't need a gun to kill," he sneered holding the blade and lunging at me.

I manged to roll awkwardly out of the way as he landed too close to the edge and started to fall. He yelped panicked as he scrambled to hold onto the brink, I lay there panting watching him struggle, trying to use the knife to gain a hold on the soggy mud.

"Patrick help me!" John shrieked sounding terrifed and I crawled to the edge.

The knife slipped again and he was now dangling, dangling on the verge with the raging river battering the rocks below him. The nails on his left hand dug into the mud, clutching for life as he hung there like a fragile twig about to break. His thick dark hair blew badly around as he wavered in the wind, his grip slowly sliding away.

"Help me Patrick please!" John begged, "don't let me die Patrick, don't let me die."

I looked at him unsurely for a minute, ignoring my erratic heartbeat as John's life hung in my hands. Let the serial killer fall to an almost certain death or save the life of a problematic child? The good side of my personality shone through, I didn't want to deliberately let him die. Hesitantly I reached out my non-bandaged hand for him to grab, too late did I see the evil glint in his eye as he stabbed the blade into my arm. I screamed in pain as I started to lose my balance on the cliff.

"Why John?" I demanded as I fell, twisting and clawing madly at the mud which I managed to get an extremely fragile grip on. For a second his cold eyes met mine, a twisted smile on his lips as he spoke.

"I'm the scorpion," John said simply.

Before I could even ponder a reply his grip died and he fell, I shamedly turned my head skywards not wanting to watch. I had more pressing matters anyway, like trying not to die. I tried, I struggled to get a grip but the mud was so slippery and with one of my hands in bandages and the other arm bleeding. I couldn't hold on for much longer, I was going to die again. For real this time.

Tearfully I turned my head away and glanced at the cruel river below that would take my life, tears escaped my eyes at the thought of my life gone by. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, I didn't want to die here. Instead I conjured up happy images, my Mom singing me that lullaby, Madam Bella praising me, Cragen smiling at me, my Dad pleased I was okay, my friends all laughing around me, Teresa... everything about Teresa. That's where I wanted to die, with the people I cared about. A sad smile formed on my lips as I imagined them all around me, my grip starting to slide, it was a much better place to die...

"PATRICK!" screamed a voice and a felt a hand grasping my arm tightly, confused my watery eyes found Minelli was trying to pull me up, "hold on Patrick, I'm going to pull you up, hold on."

Minelli tugged my arm, almost wrenching it out of its socket but I found myself lying in an exhausted heap beside him on the muddy ground. I rolled tiredly onto my back and looked up at the gray clouds dropping suddenly refreshing droplets of water onto my half frozen face.

"Patrick?" Minelli questioned breathlessly, "are you okay?"

"I'm gonna be," I muttered dreamily, "are you?"

"John didn't injure me as severely as he thought, as long as I get to a hospital soon I'll be fine," Minelli explained.

"I'm sorry about your nephew," I offered.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," Minelli added and I managed a weak half nod as we caught our breath.

"Minelli?" I asked after a minute.

"What?"

"Can we please go home now?"

"Yes," Minelli agreed and I smiled relieved...

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**Author's Note**: I know its kind of lame and crummy but see I was good? No evil cliffhanger :) next update will be faster too, I promise! Please review, or not I don't really deserve them do I?

Sorry again.

Bye for now


	60. Chapter 60: Saved

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist

**Author's Note: **Okay, I know I said I'd update sooner but I lost the flash drive I saved the next 3 chapters on so I have to rewrite them. Thanks so much to my awesome reviewers awesomenerd85, Jisbon4ever, Simonisthebutestmentalist, rigspeltforeverxx, NRZWolf 13 and jisbon-sessed for reviewing :) happier chapter this, sorry its so short

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Minelli stood and offered me a hand to help me up, I took it and winced as I realized the arm John had stabbed was still bleeding. Minelli tore off one of his sleeves and wrapped it tightly around to stop the bleeding, I noticed his side was similarly makeshift bandaged.

"There, that should hold till we make it to the hospital. So if we try get to a road and flag down a car, or at least find an area with cell reception," Minelli stated taking command, I simply nodded mutely not really caring as long as we made it back, "aren't you going to tell me?"

"What?"

"What happened to Red John?"

"Oh, he err... he fell off the cliff," I offered surpressing a shiver, "he's dead."

"I figured as much... Hopefully his body will turn up."

"I don't really care, I just wanna go home," I informed him honestly as we trekked through the infuriating trees.

Minelli fell silent and we walked for a long while in silence, I hopeed he had some clue where he was going because I was utterly lost. Eventually though I heard a very faint roar of an engine, I managed a broad smile as we headed towards the sound of the road. And there it was thick black strip running past us, I'd never been happier to see a road in my life.

"We're saved," I exclaimed delightly as Minelli checked his cell reception.

"And we have a signal," he announced dialling the appropriate numbers for help.

Relief flooded through me as I sank to the ground awaiting the arrivial of our help, in my mind I was already eagerly imagining the reunion with my friends and my Dad and even Teresa's brothers. I smiled and closed my eyes picturing them all waiting for me, hopefully they'd be as pleased to see me as I was to see them.

The ambulance didn't take long to arrive and before long I was being prodded by paramedics as they attended to me and Minelli's wounds, for once I didn't care as I was rebandaged and sped on my way to the hospital with a reluctant Minelli who'd wanted to go with the other CBI to go to Red John's house and the bodies of that couple and his nephew. I felt a moment of pity for the couple, they had died just for buying a house although why anyone would want such a creepy house in the middle of a forest was beyond me.

"We're here," announced one of the paramedics as the ambulance came to a halt.

I insisted on not being carried in as was feeling much better, although the painkillers could have had a hand in that. I jumped out of the ambulance and scanned the people as was my habit, my heart skipped slightly when I saw my Dad. He looked rough, even for him as he stood talking to Albert.

"I don't care about catching killers, I just want my son back," he was saying to Albert with an edge of despair in his voice.

"He'll be fine," Albert countered firmly.

"But what if he's not?" my Dad moaned looking fearful while Albert seemed to notice me as he smiled broadly.

"Either he's fine or I can suddenly see ghosts," the old man offered pointing to me.

He spun immediately as his eyes found me and he ran instantly towards me enveloping me in a warm hug, I blinked at his unusual show of affection before smiling as I hugged him tightly back. I let myself relax slightly, for the first time in a long time I felt safe from everything and comforted rather than afraid of my father. When he evenually pulled away he looked at me with a semi smile and I was surprised by the glistening tears on his face.

"Are you okay Dad?" I asked slightly concerned.

"You got your voice back," he noticed widening his smile before pulling me into another hug, "oh Patrick... I love you so much, I promise things are gonna be different now."

"Really?" I couldn't help but mutter doubtfully as he pulled away again to look me in the eye.

"Yes," he announced firmly, "look I know I'm kinda a jerk and I make a pretty lame Dad... but I do love you Patrick and I have to treat you better or I'm gonna loose you too, and... and I... Did I mention I love you Patrick?"

"I love you too," I told him tearfully throwing my arms around him...


	61. Chapter 61: Safe and Sound

**Disclaimer: **I don't own the mentalist

**Author's Note: **To make up for the lack of updates recently you have a long chapter I spent the night working on, a lot of dialog but I hope you like it anyway :) And as ever thank you to my brilliant reviewers Jisbon4ever, NRZWolf 13, TNBC (well done for reading all 60 chapters!), rigspeltforeverxx and Simonisthecutestmentalist for reviewing :)

* * *

"He needs to see a doctor now," complained one of the paramedics and my Dad grumpily let me go muttering something about hating doctors.

"I'm pleased you're okay Patrick," Albert added smiling kindly as I was led away by the paramedics.

I endured the doctor's testing, prodding, poking and questions while all I really wanted to do was go find Teresa I supposed dying from my injuries would not exactly be enjoyable for anyone especially considering my Dad's surprising behavior. Finally they were done and I was put into the same room I'd been in before, my Dad slumped onto a chair in the corner glaring at the doctor as she left us.

"I cannot wait to get the hell out of this crazy town," my Dad commented and my bubble of happiness was instantly exploded.

"What?" I asked trying not to look panicked, "leave?"

"Of course Pat, you agreed," he said calmly, "c'mon, this town is insane. How many times have you nearly died? It's not safe."

"But Dan and John are dead," I pointed out, "it's safe now."

"I don't want to argue with you Pat."

"You said we wouldn't leave unless I agreed," I protested.

"I say a lot of things."

"Dad," I moaned with a rapidly sinking heart, I was about to protest but stopped myself. He never listened to me, it didn't matter what I said or did it still made my opinion invalid. Sighing sadly I looked away from him to the dull floor and fell silent.

"Do these people really mean that much to you?" he asked suddenly and my head shot back up to look at the puzzlement on his face.

"Yes," I answered honestly, "they're the best friends I could ever have."

He tilted his head to one side and studied me intently with his tired eyes, looking at me like he had never seen me before with an usually thoughtful expression on his face. With most people I could've guessed what they were thinking but not him, like Madam Bella had cryptically told me before `when you see the world you become blind to those closest to you.`

"I suppose we can stay in town," my Dad said eventually and I blinked in shock, "for now."

"Really?" I gasped trying not to let my joy go to my head.

"Really Patrick," he confirmed, "you might as well enjoy life now because it won't last."

"Knock, knock," called Albert strolling merrily into the room.

"What the hell do you want?" my Dad snapped instantly.

"I just wanted to check in and see how Patrick was doing," he explained, "are you always so distrustful of people?"

"Yes, most people are bastards."

"That's a very sad way to look at the world Alex," Albert commented.

"Can I see Teresa?" I blurted out desperately.

"Are you allowed to get out of bed?"

"As long as I stay in the hospital," I invented.

"Okay," Albert agreed with a slight smile, "she's pretty eager to see you too."

My Dad scowled while I climbed out of the bed, Albert handed me a dressing gown which I hurriedly put on before proceeding to follow him with my Dad bringing up the rear. I felt my heart skipping as I followed through the endless supply of white walled corridors, it felt like forever since I'd last seen her although in reality it had probably only been hours but I still wanted to see her so badly. Finally we arrived at her room, she was just as beautiful as I remembered her despite the fact her face was creased into a frown.

"Teresa?" I questioned failing to suppress a grin as I walked towards her.

She instantly snapped her eyes to me and simultaneously a smile lit her face as she jumped out of bed to race towards me and throw her arms around me. I hugged her tightly back relishing the joyful moment and feeling truly relieved, everything really was okay, we were all okay and John was gone. For a minute we didn't say anything, we didn't need to.

We pulled away gently and I gazed into the glistening green gems she had for eyes, she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again as I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips causing her to blush furiously but it didn't stop her from kissing me back.

"I can see why Grace and Wayne are always doing this," I commented quietly and she smiled broadly.

"I missed hearing your voice," she informed me gently.

"I missed hearing your voice more," I retorted playfully to which she blushed again, "I missed making you blush."

She laughed slightly before speaking, "that's a stupid thing to miss about me..."

"I'm so glad you're okay Teresa," I told her seriously.

"I'm so glad you're okay too Patrick," Teresa replied sobering, "I've already lost my Mom, my grandmother and my Dad, I'm lucky to still have you."

"At least your Dad can't hurt you or your brothers anymore," I pointed out.

"He wasn't always evil y'know?" Teresa whispered sadly, "we used to be close, he used to take me to ball games, play games with me... It's like he died with Mom and was replaced by... you know how he was."

"I'm sorry," I said gently.

"It's okay, its probably for the best right?" Teresa questioned biting her lip to try stop the tears welling in her eyes.

"It was just his time I guess," I offered gently.

"You're an atheist Patrick," she pointed out, "you don't believe in stuff like that."

"But you do," I told her with my eyes straying to her cross necklace, "and afterlife or no, he's at peace now."

"PATRICK!" squealed a familiar little voice and I turned just in time to see Chris launching towards me to hug me tightly and launch into a rapid speech, "oh Patrick I was worried that you were dead again because it was really scary when you were dead and I don't want you to be dead cuz you're like my family now and then I would miss you and its all my fault and I'm so sorry!" he concluded bursting into tears.

"Chris..." I began kneeling down to look him in the eye, "its not your fault-"

"Yes it is!" he wailed crying harder.

"Chris look at me," I told him firmly thinking of what Angela had told me, he hesitantly raised his head to look at me, "do you remember how I felt guilty about your Mom? And you knew it wasn't you fault?"

"Yeah," he sniffed, "it wasn't your fault."

"And this isn't your fault, sometimes life just goes wrong and its nobody's fault," I reassured him comfortingly.

"Really?" he wondered wiping his eyes.

"Yes Chris," I answered giving him a slight smile, "in fact when I was... I saw your Mom and she didn't think it was your fault."

"You saw Mommy? What else did she say?" he asked excitedly.

"She said she was proud of you and that she loved you very much," I answered watching him smile, "and your Grandma sends her love too."

"And its not my fault?" he repeated and I nodded while he hugged me again.

"Did Mom say she loved me too?" Matt asked and I glanced to see him standing beside me looking at me hopefully, along with James who was wearing hospital garb too.

"She said she loved you all," I told them all getting to my feet.

"And you really saw her?" wondered James.

"Yes."

"So you were a ghost?" gasped Chris, "did you see anyone else?"

"Just my Mom."

"What was your Mom like?" Chris asked curiously, "was she as cool as you?"

"I don't really know Chris, she died when I was a baby and Dad doesn't talk about her..." I answered shrugging slightly, "she was a good person though."

"It's sad that good people die," Matt announced sadly sitting down on the edge of Teresa's bed and I was slightly surprised to see tears rolling down his face.

"What's wrong Matt?" Teresa asked gently sitting beside him and wrapping her arm around him, "do you miss Mom?"

"Yes, but that's not what's wrong," he replied miserably, "now Dad's dead... What's gonna happen to us? Will we go to foster care? Will we ever see each other again?"

His questions prompted a blanket of silence to fall across the room, the fact they were now orphans had escaped my mind with everything else going on. James studied the floor glumly while Chris kept looking between me and Teresa expecting an answer, his sister opened and closed her mouth a few times as she tried to think of something to tell them as was I.

"I don't know," she admitted eventually, "but we _wil_l see each other again. I promise."

"Hey gang," Albert announced merrily strolling into the suddenly gloomy atmosphere while my Dad leaned in the door watching us as he suppressed a yawn, "what's up with you lot?"

"What's going to happen to us Grandpa?" Chris asked immediately looking at him desperately, "will we have to go into foster care?"

"What? No, of course not," Albert answered looking shocked, "you'll live with me."

"Really Grandpa?" exclaimed Chris beaming as he ran at him to hug him tightly.

"Of course, I wouldn't let that happen to my poor grandkids," he announced smiling kindly, "now who's hungry? The cafeteria's still open."

"Okay."

"I am!"

"Sure."

"C'mon Pat," my Dad beckoned me and I could tell he was itching to be away from the Lisbons, I was actually surprised he hadn't already left, "let's go back to your room."

"I meant for you both to come too," Albert stated.

"I don't have any money with me," my Dad pointed out.

"I know," Albert sighed rolling his eyes, "obviously if I invited you then I'll pay for the food."

"What's the catch?" my Dad retorted suspiciously.

"There's no catch," Albert told him, "we really need to work on your trust issues my friend."

"Can we just go eat?" moaned Chris, "I'm hungry."

"Come on then," Albert stated heading towards the door.

My Dad moved aside and reluctantly followed us in the direction of the cafeteria, I realized I was starving having barely eaten in days and smiled to myself. Teresa dropped back beside me and took my hand in hers while casting me a sneaky smile which I returned gripping her hand tightly, like my Dad had said _"you might as well enjoy life now because it won't last..."_


End file.
